


Elastic Heart

by ariana_reuts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Foreplay, Gen, Good Parent John Winchester, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Past Underage, Pre-Stanford Era (Supernatural), Pregnancy, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective John Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Romance, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Talk of Abortion, Talk of adoption, Teen Pregnancy, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Trials of Hell (Supernatural), Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, Young Sam Winchester, lots of fluff, teen mom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 96,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariana_reuts/pseuds/ariana_reuts
Summary: Eliza Jameson, a recent nursing school graduate has been keeping a secret for over 10 years. When visiting her hometown, a certain Winchester accidentally walks back into her life. They both must come to terms with how things ended between them years ago, each one learning of the lies they were told by the people they trusted the most. After her parents are killed in a car accident she must take over raising her sister while being truly on her own for the first time. Can she let this man who broke her heart all those years ago back into her life and the person she cares about more than anyone?
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	1. Senior Year

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly Canon compliant. Most chapters will be told from Ella's POV, unless it's stated otherwise.I do have a t least one chapter planned from a Winchester POV. No beta, all mistakes are my own. Happy readings!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza Jameson searches a familiar set of eyes during her graduation, when she finally finds them, she reflects back to when she first saw them and how they changed her life completely.

Chapter 1

“Eliza Renee Jameson”

I don’t hear my name being called, I’m in my own world, looking out into the crowd for a set of familiar eyes. I spot them three rows back and smile. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I miss the days where I would see those eyes nearly every day.

Life as a nursing student consists of going to class, lab work, interning at a hospital, and occasionally sleeping. I’ve spent the past two years doing nothing but that. I’ve always been one to do things early, but this was the one thing that, for once, I was on par with my peers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the first time I saw those eyes, they altered my life, sending me down a path that I never planned to be on. Taking longer than we had thought, but eventually, I got back on track 

Finish school and get my fresh start. That had been my goal for the past two years. Move on, with or without those eyes in my life. I wanted them, but I knew that logically, it couldn’t happen. Our lives were too different, especially now. I lost my chance of having them with me always; now, I could only cherish the holidays and long weekends that allowed us to be together.

“Eliza Renee Jameson,” the announcer’s voice contains a bit of urgency this time, drawing my attention. I step across the stage, shaking my supervisor’s hand, and receive my metaphorical diploma. I look back out into the audience and connect with those eyes again, wide and filled with joy. I take my seat and think back to the first time I saw them and how they changed my life forever.

**Fall, 2002**

This was it, the first day of my senior year. This is the year I will prove to everyone that I am no longer a kid. This is the year, mom and dad will see that I can act like  _ an adult  _ and make ‘ _ good choices’ _ but, I’m determined to have just a little fun.

For the last two years, mom and dad have insisted that I take extra courses and go to summer school to ensure I graduate not only with good grades but early. I’ll graduate in the spring and be off to college in the fall. All I really want is to wait, take a year or two, experience life outside of my parents’ house.

I make the point to do as many high school activities as I can. Activities that they discouraged me from doing for the last two years; choir, volleyball, anything that will get me out of the house but still considered a school activity. I joined the decorating committee, wanting to participate in homecoming as much as possible. I know as long as I do nothing life-altering, I’m gonna be free in May.

“Be mindful of your grades, Lizzy,” dad said, reading over all the consent forms, “if they slip, you will need to cut these extracurricular activities.”

“They won’t slip, dad.” I roll my eyes. “It’s my last year, let me have a bit of fun, please?”

“Your average drops below an A, and I’m pulling you out of each one of these clubs, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I mull over telling him the other part of my plan. “I was… thinking about getting a job.” I look down, not wanting to make eye contact. “Something part-time?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Lizzy,” mom enters the room, “You’re going to be so busy already, tell her Rob.”

“Your mother has a point, and if they accept you to all these clubs, when will you even have time?”

“I may not even end up in the choir or the volleyball team,” I argue, “and if I don’t I’ll have a free period every day, I can talk to the counselor about making it my last class and—it’s my  _ Senior Year _ , please, don’t you guys think I deserve a little more credit than this? I should get to experience a little bit of independence, don’t you think? I’m gonna be away at college in a year, I’m probably gonna have some on-campus job, I need to learn how to balance between the two.” I catch my breath, hoping that they will agree.

“Fine,” dad sighs heavily, “the same deal goes. Your grades slip, no more working. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes!” I throw my arms around him, “Thank you!”

“Maybe you could get a job at the clinic,” mom chimes in, “get some experience in the field?”

“I don’t think anyone wants a sixteen-year-old working at the clinic, Sarah. Maybe at the drugstore, though?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the couch, “maybe.”

I discreetly start looking at apartments that could be for rent after graduation. I look on the outskirts of town and find a garage apartment that a very sweet older lady agrees to rent to me if it is still unoccupied over the summer. Finding a job gets put on the back burner as the school year moves into full swing. It turns out I can’t sing, and I suck at volleyball, but the coach offers me the position of manager, allowing me to still participate with the team at pep rallies and travel with them on away games. As the season comes to a close, and with Thanksgiving break around the corner, I decide it’s time to actively look for a job.

The trouble is finding someone willing to hire a 16-year-old high school student with no experience. I try some local retail stores, but I know that mom and dad will never go for the hours they want me to work. I walk into Joe’s Burgers, my favorite place to get some dinner and continue looking through the classifieds.

“Hey, Ellie,” I look over and wave to the man behind the counter.

“Hey, Dan, can I get a Bacon—"

“Your usual?” he cuts me off, smiling.

“Yes, please,” I look down sheepishly, handing him the exact amount of money without being told the total.

“Whatcha got there?” he nods towards the paper that’s now on the counter as he hands me my receipt.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a job,” I tuck the paper under my arms. “Need to earn some money so I can get outta this town after graduation.”

“What’s wrong with the town,” his face grows serious, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Shit—I mean, n-nothing. Fuck—."

“Ellie!” Dan bursts into laughter, “I’m just messing with you! You think you’re the first person who hates living here? We’re a small-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, relieved, “I’ll be in my spot, okay?”

He tries to contain his laughter as I walk away, making my way to my usual table. I flip through the pages, seeing nothing that would really work for me.

“You know Joe has been talking about hiring another cashier,” Dan says, bringing my food over, “and you’re practically here all the time anyway, you may as well make some money while you’re at it. You want me to talk to him?”

“Really? Do you think he’d hire me? I can’t stay late on week-nights because of school, mom and dad would kill me.”

“Yeah, we need someone to work the register, Jana can’t do it all herself. Whaddya think?”

“Oh, my god Dan, that would be amazing!” I get up and throw my arms around him to give him a hug. I watch as Dan walks to the back of the restaurant, after a few minutes he returns, giving me the thumbs-up. Before I leave, he gives me paperwork to fill out and a uniform, telling me to return the next day for training.

For three days, I train, working with Jana on the register. She is a few years older than me, with absolutely no filter. She always has me hunched over, laughing at something she has said or done. The lunches are busier than usual with the break. On Friday, she decides it’s time to leave me on my own, ‘ _ best way to learn,’ _ she quips.

I’ve never been a social butterfly, and the thought of having to deal with customers on my own genuinely terrifies me for a few moments. After giving myself a small pep talk, I turn around to see three large men waiting for me.

The shortest of the three looks at me, and leans over the counter, “I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” he asks, flashing me a wink. 

“I’m sorry?”  _ I can’t believe this guy is serious _ .

“My brother and I were wondering,” he gestures to the tallest of the three, “if it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“W-what?” I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks.

“Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” the older man behind him smacks him upside his head, and I have to stifle my laughter. He offers a sympathetic smile toward me.

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” I shot back; it was the only thing I could think of, albeit an awful comeback.

“It’s okay, just blink if you want me,” I stare straight into those green eyes for a solid 10 seconds before turning away.

“Dean, leave the girl alone, how old are you doll?” he asks, turning to me.

“Sixteen,” I say, watching as he rolls his eyes at the other two.

“See, are you trying to go to jail, son?” he says, looking at me apologetically “I’m sorry my sons are two walking hormones.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” the tall one huffs. Green-eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t even Sam, I heard you when we walked in.” Their dad grabs them by the shirts and drags them both to stand in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this man grabbing his two grown sons like they were pre-teens, “Now apologize to…” he looks at my name tag, “… Eliza”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to offend you,” Green-eyes says insincerely.

“That’s fine, it’s part of the job, learning to deal with frat boys who love to mess with townies,” I smile back curtly.

“What the fu—” green-eyes is clearly trying to contain his anger, but his dad chuckles at the remark, and his brother can hardly control himself.

“Yeah,  _ frat boy _ , don’t mess with the townie,” the younger one laughs, pushing his shaggy brown hair away from his face,  revealing gleaming hazel eyes flecked with hints of green and blue surrounded by dark full lashes.

“Listen,  _ Eliza,”  _ green-eyes looks at my name tag again, “we ain’t no  _ frat boys _ , in fact, we’re here becau—”

“All right, Dean, that’s  _ enough _ .” His dad gives him a stern look that is clearly a silent conversation. “Since we’re off to such a wonderful start, let’s start over, yeah?”

I nod politely. These guys are clearly passing through and will be gone in a matter of hours or days, but Joe wants us to make all people, even the ones we’ll probably never see again, feel welcome.

“I’m John, you already know Dean,” he reaches his hand out towards the tall one, “and this is Sam. We’re actually looking into the recent animal-related deaths,” he says, producing a  _ Fish and Wildlife _ Badge. I study it for a moment before handing it back. “We’re interviewing some of the local business owners and residents in the area of the attacks. Have you heard or seen anything usual, smelled anything weird,  _ anything _ that comes to mind?”

“Oh.” I look at the three men; here I was being a bitch to the people trying to help. “Um, I just started working here a few days ago,  _ animal attacks _ ?” I look back up to John, who nods. “The only animals around here are coyotes, but even they’re pretty rare. I haven’t heard anything, but I keep to myself. Joe might know something, he’s the owner and knows everything about everyone.” I offer a smile.

“Is Joe in today?” John asks. His grey eyes hold so much pain as he looks at me.

“Um… yeah. He may have a few minutes now that we’ve slowed down. I can see if he can come talk to you?”

“That’d be great, thanks, Eliza.”

“Please,  _ Ellie _ ,” I say, blushing, covering my nametag, “No one really calls me Eliza.”

“Ellie,” he repeats, “I’d really like to speak with Joe if it’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, shit. Let me go get him,” I say, walking towards the back. “Hey Jana, I’m gonna go get Joe. Watch the register?”

“I got it,” she hollers back.

“ _ Dude! _ She’s 16!” I hear who I assume is Sam whispering loudly.

“Shut up! How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Dean, she’s obviously not 18. Stick to girls your own age,” John responds. “Sammy—.”

I can no longer hear the men as I reach the door to Joe’s office. Jana and Dan had both told me that his door usually stayed open, today it was not only closed, but it was locked as well. I knock, waiting for him to answer. He looks a little frazzled when he opens the door, but smiles at me, “Hey, Ellie, what’s up?”

“There’s a guy from Fish and Wildlife; he’s looking into the recent animal attacks? He’s asking about strange occurrences or something? I don’t know, but I know you pay attention to that kind of stuff, so he wants to talk to you.”

“I—shit, yeah, let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he straightens his shirt and closes the door behind him.

I nod and head back to the front of the building. I watch as the boys and their father seem to be in deep discussion. Turning away when I realize Dean has caught me staring. I gather their food, and as I walk towards their table, I can hear that for some reason, I am the current topic of discussion, specifically, my age.

“Actually, I’ll be 17 in a month,” I quip, dropping their food, unsure of why I am engaging with this odd group of men.

“Huh?” Dean looks at me curiously.

“Well, for some reason the two of you are  _ overly _ concerned with my age, I’ll be 17 next month.”

“Still illegal, Dean,” Sam smirks.

“Yeah, but right up your aisle, Sammy,” Dean winks at him.

“Boys, stop treating this girl like she’s a piece of meat,” their father doesn’t even look up from his plate.

I can’t help myself, I’m usually not this brazen, but something about these outsiders coming in, I have to say it, “Well, here in the  _ Great State of Texas _ the age of consent is 17, it’s not  _ technically _ illegal,” and before I can stop myself I wink at Dean.

“Oh, Ellie, you are killing me here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here,” Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders, “may be able to help you out.”

Sam blushes furiously; it’s actually adorable. I can feel the heat coming up in my own cheeks, and know if I stay any longer, they will see it very clearly.

“Joe’ll be out in a few minutes,” I say, turning to go back to the register. I walk away, adding a little sway in my hips as I know the younger men are watching. “Lemme know if there’s anything else I can get you,” I shoot another wink, this time in Sam’s direction.

“Thanks, Ellie.” John’s baritone voice carries through the restaurant.

I watch Joe take a seat with the three men, the younger boys listening and observing their father very carefully. I watch John grab something—a fork?— out of his pocket and discreetly place it in front of Joe. Why would he do such a thing? Joe and the men continue to speak for 10 minutes until the dinner rush starts, and Joe excuses himself.

The three men finish their burgers and leave the restaurant; concern etched on their faces as they have a heated conversation.

Throughout the dinner rush, I notice that Sam is stationed outside of the building. It looks as though he’s watching somebody. But every time I look up, his position has changed. After it grows dark, I can no longer see him outside; I realize I shouldn’t let him occupy my mind. Jana and I work furiously until a few hours later when we finally close.

“First day on your own,” Jana says, letting her hair down and hopping onto the counter. “You did good Ellie, only a couple mistakes,”

“Thanks, it’s not always gonna be like that, right?” I say, sighing, mimicking her actions with my own hair.

“Nah, I mean, the Friday and Saturdays will be, but unless it’s a school break, the nights are not usually too crazy,” she reassures me.

“Thank God,” I laugh, “what about the customers? Did you see those guys earlier? The ones talking to Joe?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I am blushing at the mention of the men. 

“Oh, you mean the green-eyed one who was  _ clearly _ hitting on you?” She smirks at me, “With the older guy and the really tall guy?”

“Yeah… you have an excellent memory…” I laugh, “he was so  _ cheesy _ . ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” I mock him. “I mean, he can’t think girls really fall for that? Even the tall one knew it was a bad line.” I blushed a little, thinking about them.

“Oh my god, you like him,  _ green-eyes _ .” She gasps, “You wanna jump his bones,” she sang mockingly at me, “you  _ love  _ him!”

“Shut up,” I threw my apron at her playfully, “I do not want to  _ jump his bones. _ Besides, I’m jailbait. He’s at least 21 or so.” Jana raises her eyebrow at me. “He basically told me he couldn’t.”

“So… you’re saying you would if he was younger?” she giggles.

“Jana! No! He’s not my type. He’s way too cocky—he probably thinks he’s God’s Gift to Women,” I mock him again.

“What about the tall one? He was gorgeous,” she offers, “And the dad? He’s hot, like I will  _ so  _ call him Daddy. Let him just—."

“That’s  _ way _ too much information, Jana. Anyway, if green-eyes is too old, how on earth is the dad not even more wrong?”

“That’s what makes it so hot… like, the wrongness of it…” she says mock fanning herself. “Okay, so clearly, the giant is the one you’re gonna have to do. You can just climb on top—" she says, moving her whole body onto the counter, “and take him for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jana.” I try to suppress my embarrassed laughter. But I blush furiously at the thought of Sam, especially with the image that Jana just planted in my head. I cover my face with my hands as I try to compose myself.

“Oh my god, you are so red!” Jana laughs, “It’s the giant! He’s the one you  _ lo-ove! _ ”

“I don’t even know him! They’re just passing through. You know the type, no one actually moves here. Not for real, at least. They’ll be gone in a week.”

“Ellie, that’s  _ why _ it’s perfect. Hook up, get all that pent-up frustration out of your system, and then you’ll go your separate ways,” she offers. “Wham-bam-thank you-ma’am.”

“I’m really not into that one-night stand stuff,” I say, “I mean, what’s the point?”

“Come on, Ellie,  _ that’s _ the point. Sometimes you just need a  _ release.  _ It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with some guy you just met and hook-up with once. I mean, you’ve hooked up with guys before, right?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Oh, my God. Ellie, you’re not a virgin, are you?” she whispers so that Dan and Joe won’t hear. I nod, I didn’t have a problem with my own virginity, but other people did. I know I have plenty of time. And with how busy mom and dad keep me, I have no time for boys. “Oh, okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know. Besides, mom and dad don’t even like the thought of me dating; they’d make the guy ask for permission. It’s not that I would ever have time for it anyway. Either way, it’ll happen whenever it happens, and it will probably not be great the first time,” I laugh, trying to break the serious look on Jana’s face. “I have very low expectations, especially if he’s never done anything either. Most boys my age don’t know what they’re doing anyway.”

“Not to be all  _ romantic _ or whatever, but you know it doesn’t have to be like that. Your first time doesn’t have to suck. It can be really nice if you get the right person.”

“I figure it will either be awesome or okay,” I laugh, “hope it’s awesome, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have one more  _ mom _ moment with you, and then we can leave, okay?” she grows slightly serious, and I nod my head. “Bring condoms.” I choke out a laugh. “I’m serious. Don’t count on the guy to do it. And don’t trust the ‘pull-out’ method. Dudes always think they can time it right, and half the time…” she makes a gesture I don’t quite understand, I look at her confused. “Inside. Or at least not all the way out. And I’m sure getting pregnant isn’t a part of your grand plan.” She smiles softly. “If you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with, you can come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, if and when the day ever comes, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She raises her eyebrow. “I swear. Don’t count on it being anytime soon, though.”

Jana finishes counting the tips, and I count the register. We grab our bags, say goodbye to Dan, who’s still closing down, and Joe, who’s in the office looking at receipts.

Jana and I live about a block away from each other, and close enough to the restaurant that neither of us bothered driving. Every week it’s getting colder, and I know by the first week of December it will be too cold to walk home at night. But until then, Jana and I walk together, her house off of the main road that leads to mine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Jana asks as we reach her street.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Then you’ll have to walk back by yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m prepared.” She pulls mace and a small knife that’s attached to her keychain out. “If someone or something tries to get me,  _ stab stab _ .”

“Jesus, Jana,” I laugh out of shock., “No, I’ll be fine, how about tomorrow before work I get me one of those and then I’ll be prepared as well.”

“Fine, but call me when you get home,” she jots a number down and waves goodbye, “I’m serious Ellie, call me. If you don’t, I  _ will _ call your parents.”

“I will,” I yell, turning back to head home.

I feel that I’m being followed. Paranoid, I know. I swear I can hear footsteps behind me, but every time I turn around, there’s nothing there. Freaking Jana, this is her fault. I’ve never had issues walking home at night before, but now I’m hearing things that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t put “I’m prepared,” in my head, now feeling like a taunt. I’m less than 5 minutes away from my house; what could possibly happen?

I hear a growling, something inhuman; it grows louder as I try to will myself to move faster. I turn the corner, and that’s when it happens, someone,  _ something _ , jumps out of nowhere and starts running towards me. I try to run, but my legs won’t move, “ _ fuck.” _

I hear yelling, but I still can’t move, the creature is getting closer to me, and I get a good look at it. _Claws,_ it has fucking _claws_. Its eyes are yellow, and its teeth are huge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a werewolf. But werewolves don’t exist. This must be the creature that John was looking for.

_ ‘It’s some kind of rare species of bear _ ,’ I tell myself, _ ‘a bear.’ _

It’s only about a foot away from me; it looks like something out of a horror movie. It’s on its hind legs, unnatural noises leave its body, and before I can even move, it's swiping at me. All I can do is close my eyes and pray it doesn't kill me. A loud  _ bang  _ forces my eyes open, I stand there, still unable to move. I look up to see a set of familiar eyes before me, ones I hadn’t expected to see ever again. Sam.


	2. Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella worries about the past catching up with her.

**Present**

“We are so proud of you, Lizzy” mom smiles, pulling me into a hug.

“We all are.” I turn to face dad. “Me, your mother, and sister. Isn’t that right, Delia?”

My 10-year-old sister is standing in front of him, looking more like me than I would care to admit. She beams up at me, jumping into my arms, “I screamed for you when they called your name, Ellie! Did you hear me?”

“Of course I did, Cordy!” I squeeze her tightly, using my nickname for her. 

“I miss you, Ellie, it’s not the same when you’re not home, mom and dad…” she leans in to whisper in my ear, “they’re already talking about me going to college.”

I knew that it was something that they would want for her, but I hate that they are already starting to bring it up. They had pushed me into making those same decisions before I was ready, and it put me on a collision course that I might never have been on if they allowed me to be a regular teenager for a few more years.

“She’s a little young for college talk, don’t you think?”

“Lizzy, you should know, it’s never too early,” mom defends. “We started looking at programs when you were about her age.”

“Had your entire future planned out,” dad interjects, “and look where you are now! Even with your _setbacks_.”

“ _I_ was about to start high school,” I say, trying to keep myself calm. I take a deep breath, putting Cordy down, “she needs time to be a kid… to have a little fun.”

“As I recall, Lizzy,” dad’s mood changes quickly, “you had _plenty_ of fun, so much fun, in fact, that it almost ruined everything we had worked for.”

“I was seventeen, not ten,” I assert, stepping closer to him, “and my ‘fun’ didn’t almost ruin anything. If you think Cordy will be in a similar situation anytime soon, then we’ve all got much bigger problems.” I take another deep breath, “maybe it’s time to tell her about my _setback_ , and she will learn from my mistakes.”

“This is not the place, Eliza,” mom puts herself between us. “Your father and I just want what’s best for Cordelia; you know that. We can talk about _that_ later,” she looks down at Cordy, who is watching all of us intently, “but not now. Let us take you out for dinner, please.”

I nodded reluctantly. Mom’s right; this isn’t the time or the place.

“Later?” I look between them.

“Later.”

“What about me?” Cordy chirps, looking up to me. “Don’t I get a say?”

“I got you, kid.” I wink and squeeze her hand. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Joe’s!” she yells, and I laugh, it has been years since I’d been to Joe’s. For the past two years, I practically never left campus, only visiting home during the breaks for a few days at a time, and even then, I spent most of my time studying. It was easier to stay focused on class, _keep my priorities straight_ , as dad would say.

“Delia,” dad rejoins as we walk toward the parking lot, “let Lizzy choose, this is her night. As a matter of fact, we were thinking about going to that new restaurant downtown. What do you say, Lizzy?”

“I say… Joe’s!” Cordy squeals with delight. “How about Cordy and I take my car, and we’ll meet you guys there? I can take her to my apartment, I’ll change out of these robes, and we can meet there in about an hour?”

“Do you really think that’s the best idea?” Dad says, shooting a side glance to mom then back to me. “Being alone?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle a ten-year-old for an hour,” I laugh.

“Ten and a half!” she corrects.

“ _Excuse me,_ ten and a half,” I bring my attention back to my parents, “and if I remember correctly, I used to be the only person in the house who could calm her down when she had her infamous temper tantrums.”

“I didn’t have tantrums!” Cordy pouts, walking in front of me, “I was a good baby!”

“Hate to break it to you, kid. But you had the _worst_ fits. You grew out of them, eventually,” I give her a playful wink. “Anyway, Cordy has been asking to see my apartment basically since I moved in, and this is my last chance to show her before I have to move off-campus.”

Dad nods, and he and mom walk toward their car. Cordy and I head across campus to my apartment. Her sparkling eyes fill with curiosity and wonder as I explain the statues and buildings, even pointing out one of the many stray cats that I see every day.

It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk to my apartment. It’s nothing fancy, just a small one-bedroom, but Cordy takes her time, studying the place. She seems fascinated by the pictures on the walls, framed photos of her and me, mom and dad, the handful of friends I have, and some art.

“Are you moving back home?” Cordy asks excitedly. “It’s been so long, not since I was little!”

“You’re still little, kid,” I laugh.

“ _Really_ little! I never get to see you anymore Ellie,” she follows me into my room.

“That’s because I was working really hard at school, but now, I’ll make sure that I see you more often, even if I don’t move back home.”

“Promise?” Cordy holds her pinky out in front of me, and I grab it with my own.

“Promise.”

She smiles widely. I notice a tooth missing and laugh to myself. I watch as she grabs one of the pictures off of my nightstand and sits down on my bed. It’s one of my favorite images of just the two of us. It was her first birthday; Cordy had just slammed her face into the cake, and I was laughing wildly.

“Why aren’t mom or dad in this one?” she asks, gesturing towards the picture.

“Oh…” I took the frame out of her hands, studying it, “You were so cute back then,” I tease. “You were so cranky that day, we’d given you all these presents, but nothing worked. Then, we put the cake in front of you, and you lit up. Mom and I were trying to help you blow out the candle, and you just threw your face into the cake. You covered your whole face, then tried to get me too. Mom was laughing so hard she had to step away. We didn’t even know that dad had taken the picture until later.”

“Who’s that?” she points at a figure in the background, I freeze for a moment, never realizing that he was in this photo. He’s slightly out of focus, but he still looks how I remember him. “He was in another picture, but when I asked mom about him, she wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh, him?” I feign ignorance, knowing precisely who he is. “He’s some relative on dad’s side of the family, a twice-removed something or other; mom wasn’t exactly a fan of him.” I force a laugh. I know I can’t be completely honest with her about the man in the photo, but I won’t lie to her either. “He used to visit us a couple of times a year, whenever he was in town. He was crazy about you, and you were obsessed with him. Dad hated it so much,” I laugh, thinking back to all the times we had seen him. “Dad thought he was getting replaced as your favorite person.” 

“Why don’t I remember him?” she asks quietly.

“I think the last time we saw him you were only two, I remember he told dad he wanted to help pay for my college and even start a college fund for you, it caused a big fight. You were a little too small to remember him.”

“What happened to him?” she looks up at me.

“I don’t know, kid. We didn’t hear from him again after that last visit. I think he got in some trouble with the law or something. We tried tracking him down, but nothing ever came of it.”

She looks disappointed in my answer.

“I’ll tell you what, in a couple of years, if you want, we’ll see if we can’t track him down. And I bet that we can find another, clearer picture of him somewhere,” I half-lie again, knowing exactly where to find a picture of him, “Whaddya say, kid?”

“Okay.” Cordy takes the photo out of my hand, and I can see she still has questions. I’m always afraid of this happening, and I’m not ready to conquer it today.

“You know why I picked that one out of the _hundreds_ dad took that day?” She shakes her head. “That’s just you and me, kid. There aren’t that many of only the two of us.”

She frowns and looks back down at the picture again. “What about before this one?” she asks, and I’m stunned by her question.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I’m afraid I know what she means, but I promised I wouldn’t lead her down that path until we decided it was the right time.

“We did a family tree this year. They wanted pictures from when we were babies, and when I asked mom for pictures, she gave me a bunch like these. I told her my teacher wanted ones from when I was younger, but mom said she didn’t know where they were. All my friends have pictures with their mommy’s still in the hospital. But I don’t.”

“They’re around the house,” I stretch the truth again. “We weren’t expecting you, and you took us so off-guard, our little surprise baby. It took mom and dad so long to get used to the fact they were gonna have a baby in the house again. I was gonna move out, but after you were born, I just wanted to be around you all the time. And we were all so frazzled the first few months after you were born, I don’t think they even thought about picking up a camera half the time. But after your first birthday, dad couldn’t put one down.” I walked to my closet to get a change of clothes. “There are hundreds of them.”

“Really?” she looks up at me, a smile growing. “What about you?”

“Well, good cameras were still pretty expensive when I was born, plus, you had to buy film, then get it developed, and sometimes the pictures would turn out to not even be good, or out of focus or something. Or you would have to go to a photo studio and have them professionally done, which was also expensive.”

“So, they didn’t take any pictures of you when you were a baby?”

“They did, I’m sure they’re also hiding around the house somewhere, there’s probably more than they have of you,” I tease her. “I was the firstborn, after all. I think they have more videos of you, though. How about this weekend we look for them together?” she perks up at the thought, I make a mental note to let mom know what we will be looking for. “What do you think?” I asked, stepping out in a dress, and she scrunches her face. “Too formal for Joe’s?”

She nods, laughing. I head back to my closet and pick a simple shirt and jeans to wear.

“Ellie, why are they so mean to you?” Cordy’s tone changes when I walk out. “Mom and dad, they act like you were a bad kid.”

“Cordy,” I gather my thoughts and choose my words carefully. “Mom and dad had _only_ me for seventeen years before you came along. They want what’s best for me, and that means that sometimes they have to push me. It comes from a place of love, know that.” I sit next to her offering a smile. “It’s been like that since before you were born, they were always stricter with me than they’ve been with you. I may be a ‘grown-up’, but to them, I’m still their little girl, same goes for you, kid.” I pull her into a hug. “Now, can we go to Joe’s? I’m starving!”

I grab my keys and cell phone, messaging mom on our way to my car.

Me >> We’re leaving my apt. we should be @ Joes in 30 mins or so

Mom << Okay =)

Me >> One other thing… Cordy’s starting to ask questions.

Mom << About what?

Me >> Everything. I think it’s time we told her.

Mom << We’ll discuss it later. See you soon.

I put my phone in the cup holder, frustrated by being shut down already. I know what they will say, _she’s too young, she won’t understand_ , and a part of me knows they’re right. I know they only want what’s best, and I do too, but this is one of those days where it almost seems like it’s too much.

“It’s not fair! I should have a phone too! Dad says I’m too young!” Cordy gripes, pulling me out of my thoughts, “I don’t need a fancy one—"

“Dad’s right, you _are_ too young.” I laugh as she settles into her seat. “What do you need a phone for?”

“So my friends can call me,” she argues. “I hate that they have to call the house, dad won’t even let me get a phone for my room.”

“I definitely gotta agree with dad on that one.”

“El! You’re supposed to be on _my side,_ that’s what you said earlier! Big sisters are supposed to be on the little sister’s side!” She pouts in her seat and I have to suppress my laughter.

“C’mon Cordy, give me one good reason, and I’ll be on your side.” I wait as she struggles to come up with a reason. “You gotta boyfriend?” I drag the word out, making her blush and shake her head. “You don’t need a phone yet. Can I trust you to pick out some music for us?” 

She laughs and searches through the player, finally picking a song.

 _I’ve never seen a diamond in the flesh_ _  
_ _I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies_  
_And I’m not proud of my address, in the torn-up town_ _  
No post code envy_

“And we’ll never be Royals!” I chime in, looking at her with a wide smile.

“It don’t run in our blood!” she joins me, laughing.

We spend the better part of the 30-minute trip to Joe's singing very loudly and badly to songs from my playlists.

We pull into the parking lot, laughing as another song finishes playing.

I spot my parents’ car and pull in next to them. I can see that they are arguing. Mom’s cheeks and eyes teary, and dad, he just looks angry. A kind of angry that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Mom sees Cordy and me and quickly changes her expression. Dad does as well, softening his features.

“Lizzy, what took you so long?” She says, as we both leave our cars, trying to hide the fact that something is wrong.

“I said 30 minutes, right?” I look at her with confusion, “I mean, maybe it’s been a little longer than that, but not much.” I offer.

“We just thought… Maybe you changed your mind about coming here?” Dad looked at me, still clearly angry about something.

“No, why would I do that? Cordy? Is there any other burger place better than Joe’s?” I laugh, trying to break the tension, which I could do better if I knew why they were so anxious.

“Heck, no!” she yells, “Joe’s is the best!”

“What your dad is trying to say, Lizzy, is that we can go _somewhere_ else.”

“Nah, Cordy’s right, and it’s been too long since I’ve been here. I wonder if there’ll be anyone here that I’ll recognize,” I question out loud, “Dan, Jana… some of the other staff?”

“Come on Ellie! I’m starving!” Cordy grabs my hand and starts dragging me towards the entrance.

“Cordelia! Slow down!” Dad says harshly, “The food will still be there.”

“Yeah, but the faster we get there, the faster I can eat!”

I laugh at her as she pulls me inside. The place still looks the same, mostly; there are new flat screens on the walls, a fresh coat of paint, and updated furniture, but it’s still Joe’s.

“No _fucking_ way,” a voice yells from behind the register. Mom quickly covers Cordy’s ears, who begins to laugh hysterically. “Ellie? Ellie Jameson?”

I finally see who is calling me, “Jana? Oh, my God! It’s been so long!”

She pulls me for a hug. “What’s it been, 5, 6 years?”

Dad places our orders as mom takes Cordy to a booth by the window. Jana looks the same, only slightly more worn than when I had last seen her.

“Before I was in school full time, something like that, yeah,” I smile. “Just graduated, actually.”

“Wow! Ellie! That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you,” she offers a sad smile, “I know it didn’t look like it was gonna happen there for a while, but I’m glad you got what you wanted,” she says quietly.

“Thank you. It’s been tough, but it’ll be worth it. What about you?” I ask as she pulls away. “How have you been?” She pulls her left hand in front of her face, showing off the diamond ring on her finger. “Oh my God, congratulations! Who’s the lucky guy?”

She tells me all about her fiancé, a local boy who started working at Joe’s shortly after I stopped.

“And Ellie, you’ll _never_ guess who was in here the other day.”

“Who?” I ask, looking at her curiously. But before she has time to answer, a familiar voice fills the air.

Winchester.

My eyes go wide, and I start to pant. I step away from Jana, making my way towards the bathroom where I am unable to stop myself from vomiting. I’m panicking, I never expected to see him again. He had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. I do my best to compose myself, splashing water on my face. _Why was he here after all these years?_ Once the color returns to my face, I return to the dining room, taking my seat next to Cordy, who has already made herself comfortable at the booth, coloring, not paying attention to anything. Mom gives me a look; _we tried to warn you_. I try to control my breathing as Jana delivers our food.

“So, who do we have here?” she says looking between Cordy and me.

“This is my sister, Cordy.” I laugh as she barely looks up from her page, “Cordy, this is Jana.” 

“Of course!” she exclaims, “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner! She’s practically your twin! Except for her eyes.” 

“Yeah,” I say nervously. “We get that a lot, I think it’s just cause of the age gap.”

“Odd,” she looked us all in the eye, “you all have dark eyes.”

“Um, yeah—well, if—both parents have the recessive trait, there’s a 1 in 4 chance of the child having it,” I spouted, hoping she would buy the not-technically a lie.

“I guess I should have paid more attention in Biology,” she laughs “anything else I can get for y’all?”

“No, thank you, Jana,” dad answers, looking relieved.

I stare down at my plate, appetite gone. I watch as Cordy scarfs her burger down and then tells an outlandish story that she insists is true. “It’s a monster! It sneaks into the rooms of kids, sucks out their souls and then they die!” she says seriously. “Three kids from my school are in the hospital!”

“So, a monster is making the kids at your school sick?” Dad raises an eyebrow. “Delia, you know there’s no such thing as monsters.”

“It’s true!” she says loudly. “It’s a soul-eater!” Cordy pouts, upset that no one believes her.

“She’s got a point.” A familiar pair of green eyes walks towards our table, trying to appease the upset child. “It’s not actually eating their souls. But the good thing is there are people like me and my brother—Ellie?”

“Dean.” I wanted to die. It had been years since I had seen him, either of them. I stand up from the table, giving him an awkward hug. “You’re here on business?” I ask, desperately trying to keep my cool. 

“Yeah, S-Sam and I got into town a few days ago. Wow, Ellie, we didn’t think we’d ever see you again, it’s good to see you.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Sam?” he shouts. _I don’t know if I can do this._ “Sammy…c’ mere!”

I hear grumbling from a few feet away.

“Sam!” he yells. _I’m gonna die of embarrassment_. Cordy, none the wiser, laughs at the green-eyed man hollering. He looks down at her, “Hey princess, what’s your name?” he squats down to meet her eye level.

“Delia, that’s what everyone calls me, except Ellie, she calls me Cordy.” Her large expressive eyes look up at him.

“Well, can I call you Cordy as well?” Dean asks, and she nods. “Well Cordy, my name is Dean, and I know Ellie from a long time ago.” He leans in and lowers his voice, “Me and my brother, we take care of monsters. So I don’t want you to worry about that anymore, okay?” She happily nods as he turns away. “ _SAM_!”

“Dude, I was on the phone with the hosp—” Sam stops dead in his tracks 3 feet from our table. “Ella,” he gasps. 

“Hey, Sam,” I somehow muster, “been a long time.”

“Y-yeah,” I can see the wheels turning in his head, “about 10 y-years?”

I turn to my parents, whose faces are showing an array of emotions. Some that don’t even make sense to me.

“About.” I glance down at Cordy, blissfully unaware of what was happening around her, and back up to him. “Right after graduation,” I mutter.

Somehow, he’s taller than I remember. I rarely thought about him, mostly because of the pain and anger it would bring.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He drags his hand through his hair. “I- I can’t believe you still live here. I thought for sure you were leaving.” There’s a bitterness in his tone that I can tell he’s trying to cover-up. “You’d always said…”

“I’m just visiting. We’re just here celebrating. Cordy insisted.”

“Cordy?” He notices the little girl at the table. “Who—?”

“Cordy,” I say, grabbing her attention. “I want you to meet someone.” My eyes fall onto my parents’ faces, which now have nothing but sheer panic written all over them. Cordy places her crayons down and gives a dramatic sigh. I move to the side, allowing her to stand in front of me but facing the brothers.

“Cordy, this is Sam, this is Dean’s brother, he helps him hunt monsters.” I look at Sam, who seems confused. “Sam, this is Cordelia.”

“ _Ellie!”_ she whines playfully, “don’t tell him my whole name! I don’t tell people your whole name!”

“I know how you feel.” He crouches down to meet her. “I don’t like when people use my whole name either. If you want, you can call me Sammy.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Dean whispers from behind him. He always hated being called Sammy by anyone other than Dean. “ _That_ is an honor, Cordy.”

“Your eyes look like mine,” she giggles. “Even the green specks!”

I watch as a variety of emotions play on Sam’s face. 

“Y-yeah,” his smile fades, and his eyes fill with confusion and panic, “they’re the same.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment or kudos!


	3. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Sam bond after he comes to her rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is talk of possible sexual assault in this chapter. Character **was not assaulted** , but has suspicious injuries and is confronted about them.

**Thanksgiving Break 2002**

I never heard a gunshot so close to me before. Sure, this is Texas, but the only shots I’ve ever heard before were from a rifle, and that was at a gun-range. The sound blisters in my ears. I can barely even process what’s going on as my legs give out from underneath me. A sharp pain runs through my body as I hit the ground, darkness consuming me.

A muffled voice approaches me, speaking nonsense as far as I know. I look to see Sam standing above me, hands in the air, eyes wide as he pulls my broken form in front of him. His hand reaches out, softly touching my shoulder, and as I focus on him, his voice becomes clear.

“Hey,” Sam looks at me with concern. “Do you remember me? We met at Joe’s earlier?”

I’m silent. I’m trying to process what I just saw. What just happened? _What was that thing_? I can’t focus on anything; I look around wildly. I meet his eyes; I can see the fear behind them as he puts on a brave face trying to keep me calm. Slowly, I nod my head, “Sam,” I whisper.

“Right. Eliza, right?” I nod again, eyes wandering to the dead _thing_ only a few feet away. “You’re gonna be okay, Eliza, I’ve got you.” His voice is soft. “Can you look at me, please?” he asks, bringing my attention back to him. “Are you hurt? Did it bite or scratch you?”

I can’t move, let alone speak. I stare at the ground below me and somehow manage to shake my head. I don’t even realize that tears are falling down my face.

“You’re sure?” His hand comes to my face, and I wince before he even touches me. “Okay, I’m not gonna hurt you, Eliza. You’re sure that it didn’t hurt you?”

I look into his warm hazel eyes, but I still can’t speak and shrug my shoulders in response. Everything happened so fast. I know that _thing_ didn’t bite me. But its claws were coming at me before I heard the gunshot. Monsters are _real?_ Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t an animal, and it definitely wasn’t human.

I bring my arms together and flinch at the sudden pain in my forearm. I look down to see a trail of crimson running down my arm. I gesture to the wound with a nod, and Sam rips off a piece of his shirt and gently bandages the injury.

“I—I’m gonna need to look you over, Eliza, is that okay?” he tells me, and I nod my head shakily. “Do you think you can move?” 

I can feel tears running down my face now, and know that I should respond, but I’m helpless to do anything but stare at him in shock. 

“Shh…. It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. Shh…”

He picks me up and moves me towards a bench under a lamp, taking me far away from the dead creature. He looks me over, “No one calls you Eliza…right?” he says, trying to distract me and make small talk. “My brother—Dean—likes to call me Sammy, but he’s the only one who’s allowed to,” he offers a smile. “They’ll be here soon—my brother and dad, we’ll get you to a doctor, get a proper check-up for you.”

“I-I-I j-just s-stood there,” I stutter, “t-that thing—it c-came at me—and I c-couldn’t m-move.”

“Ella,” he turns his head to face me, “is it okay for me to call you that?” I nod in response, and he continues. “You know it’s not just ‘flight or fight’?”

“W-what?”

“There’s more to flight or fight,” his voice soothes me, “there’s a third instinct, _freeze._ That’s how some people react in dangerous situations. It’s perfectly natural, you were in shock, seeing something like that can make anyone shut down.”

“What was that thing?” He seems relieved that I am speaking, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

He sighed, clearly running something through his head. A low rumbling in the distance makes me jump, and Sam looks around nervously. He stands up in front of me, seemingly to protect me from whatever or whoever is coming towards us.

“Sammy!” A low voice calls. I hear a loud creaking of a car door opening and closing. “Son, what the hell happened? You were supposed to be three blocks over tracking the—”

“It’s over there.” I don’t look up, but assume that he is referring to the dead _thing_ which is now a few yards away from us. 

“Goddammit, Sam. I told you to watch and report only!” 

The voice sounds angry but controlled, and I realize that it’s Sam’s dad, John, as he continues. His voice grows louder until he’s almost shouting, but I can hear the underlying concern. It’s more fear for Sam than anger that has the man upset.

“This wasn’t something for you to do on your own! You wait for either Dean or me; you know that!” 

“Dad… he got it; it’s dead,” Another voice, Dean, says as he walks closer to us. “Sammy, you got some real balls on you, taking down a—”

Dean stops talking, presumably catching sight of me, a whimpering mess on the side of the road.

John apparently notices me also, asking, “What happened here, Sam?” as he steps closer to me.

“I was tracking it… _for hours_ . It was following Ellie and her friend home,” Sam explains. “When they split up down the block, it tried to attack Ellie. I had to act, dad. It would have killed her; it tried to _bite_ her. I couldn’t let that happen.” Sam rambles, becoming noticeably upset. “I had to do something. I couldn’t—"

“Okay, easy son. You did good.” 

I hear a soft pat as someone takes a step closer, and my body starts to shake uncontrollably at the thought of someone coming near me. 

“It’s okay, darlin’. I won’t come any closer.” John’s voice is placating, soothing. “Do you know what happened?”

I shake my head; everything’s a blur. I can’t make heads or tails of anything.

“That’s okay; you’re safe now. We aren’t gonna let anything happen to you, Ellie. Me and my boys, we’re gonna get you somewhere to get you looked at.” John steps away, and I relax a bit as he walks back to Sam and Dean.

“Is she hurt?” Dean asks. “Are you sure it didn’t bite her? You know what will happen if it did.”

“I don’t think it did,” Sam states. “Its claws were coming at her when I shot it. She’s bleeding from her arm, but it’s not deep. Besides that, I think she’s physically okay.”

“All right, you and your brother take her to a doctor,” John orders. "I’ll take care of the body.”

“Yes, sir,” the boys answer in unison. Sam walks back over to me, Dean only a step or two behind him.

“Ella, we’re gonna move now, okay?” Sam says. I give him a nod to reassure him I’m okay, relatively speaking anyway. He holds out a hand to help me up. “Do you think you can walk to the car? Or do you want me to carry you?” he whispers so only I can hear him.

“I—I think I can walk.” My feet are heavy beneath me, but Sam stays at my side, one hand wrapped around my waist, supporting me, the other holding my injured arm.

We reach the car, and I gasp at the sight of it. I don't know much about cars, but this thing is a beast, and I can tell that it is cherished by its owners.

“She’s a beauty, huh?” Dean says, opening the door to the back seat, I smile weakly and nod. He cringes a little when he sees my arm. “Dude, make sure she’s not bleeding,” he huffs at Sam. “I just cleaned Baby out.”

“Nice, Dean, real sensitive.” I watch Sam shoot Dean a look that can only be interpreted as ‘ _fuck you’_.

“Come on, man! You know I’m not being serious!” Dean tries to laugh it off. Sam’s not buying it.

“Dean! Cut the shit and take this girl to get some help!” Apparently, neither is John.

“Where’s the hospital, Ellie?” Dean asks, getting into the driver’s seat. Sam sits with me in the back seat, and I lean against his side, the only bit of comfort I have.

“The c-closest one is in the next town over,” I murmur, now terrified about what could happen next.

“Fucking small towns,” Dean grunts, turning back to face us. “That’s too long a drive and if that thing bit—”

“ _Dean_. I told you, it didn’t. You’re scaring the shit out of her man.” Sam squeezes my hand consolingly. “Ella?”

“Is something going to happen to me?” I look up at Sam; even in a seated position, he is so much taller than me.

“No, Ella, we just want someone to take a good look at your arm,” he reassures me. “Is there an emergency clinic or something?”

“Off of J-Jefferson and M-Main.” Panic sets in, and I plead, “Sam; you won’t let anything happen to me, will you?”

“Of course not, as long as me and my brother are here, you’ll be safe, okay?”

“Sam?” His face softens, and his eyes are filled with concern. “What was that thing?”

Sam hesitates, he seems uncertain about what to say. Just as he opens his mouth, Dean’s eyes meet Sam’s in the rearview mirror, and he tells Sam to give me ‘the talk.’ Monsters, ghosts, things that go bump in the night, all of it, they’re _real_. The three of them travel around the U.S., hunting them. Sam and Dean remain quiet and let me take in everything I’ve just learned as we drive to the clinic.

“M-my parents,” I suddenly realize, “it’s so late. They’re gonna wonder where I am. What am I gonna tell them?” I’m becoming hysterical again.

“Don’t worry about that Ella,” Sam soothes me again. That’s all he seems to have done for the last hour. “I’ll call them when we get to the clinic, okay? Do you have a cell phone?” I shake my head. “That’s okay, write the number down for me.” He pulls a scrap piece of paper from his pocket and catches a pen that Dean tosses over his shoulder at us. Panic washes over me as I write my phone number down. _What is he going to tell them?_

“Don’t worry,” he says as if he’s read my mind, “I won’t tell them about it. It was an animal attack, coyotes maybe?” he offers, and I nod. They are uncommon but not unheard of; one or two attacks a year.

“Coyote attack,” I confirm with him.

We pull into the clinic parking lot, Sam helps me out of the car, and Dean walks ahead to open the door. My legs still feel like jello, so Sam helps support me as we walk in. He tried to carry me, but I won’t allow myself to be _that_ helpless.

“Ellie Jameson?” the nurse, Teresa, says, looking at me as we walk in. The curse of small towns-pretty much everyone knows everyone else. “What happened to you, sweetie?”

I can’t speak, I can’t lie to this woman. Tears fill my eyes again, and I move back into Sam’s side.

“Coyote attacked her,” Sam answers. “Just got her arm, she may need some stitches, and someone needs to give her a full check-up, just in case.”

“And who are you?” Teresa looks at him and Dean curiously, two strangers walk in with a wounded girl, there are bound to be some questions.

“Sam, Sam Campbell. My brother and I saw the attack and scared the animal away. Ella asked us to bring her here.” He rubs my back while I cradle my injured arm.

“Alright, Ellie, can you come with me, and we’ll get that arm looked at?” Teresa extends her arm to me to lead the way, and I flinch. I know she won’t hurt me, but all I can see is a claw coming at me. I look at Sam, terror written all over my face, silently pleading with him not to leave me.

He smiles down to me, “it’s okay, Ella.”

“Can he come in with me?” I turn back to Teresa, “please?”

“If that’s what you want, Ellie,” she smiles, but I can sense that she thinks there’s something wrong about me wanting someone she’s never seen before to stay by my side.

“Will you, Sam?” I ask, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me.”

“Of course, Ella,” His large eyes meet mine, and they are soft, green specs more prominent than before. “Do you want me to call your parents first?”

“I can have someone do that,” Teresa says, gesturing towards the door that would lead to an examination room. I nod in agreement. It will be better coming from a member of the staff than a complete stranger.

Sam waves Dean off, and we walk towards an exam room where the doctor is waiting for us.

“Okay, Ellie, let’s take a look at that arm,” Dr. James says as I sit down, Sam still by my side. “Oh, yeah, that’s gonna need some stitches. You said a coyote did this?” Teresa retrieves a suture kit and some antiseptic to clean the wound on my arm and gives it to Dr. James.

“It charged at her and then knocked her down. She was using her arm to protect herself. My brother and I, we saw it all happen, we scared it off, Ella-Ellie seemed really shaken.” Sam tells her for me, and I am grateful. There’s no way I could lie through this. One look into my eyes, and she would know something was not quite right with the story we’re telling her.

“This isn’t like any Coyote-related injury I’ve ever seen before.” She’s not buying our story. I can tell she doesn’t like that Sam is speaking for me, and I can see Sam trying to come up with a way to explain the injury. “Ellie, is there something that you’re not telling me?” She asks, looking directly at me. “Would you rather we speak alone?”

I know I have to say something. Sam saved me, and if I don’t say anything, Dr. James will probably have the sheriff here in a matter of minutes. I run the lie in my head; they’d never believe the truth. Hell, it happened to me, and I _barely_ believe it.

“No… It was a coy-coyote or maybe a wolf.” I stammer. “It all happened so fast, it was clawing at me, and then the next thing I knew, Sam was there.” I faintly smile as I look up to him. He offers a tight-lipped smile to Teresa. She seems to believe the lie slightly more.

“Alright, Ellie, it’s my job to ask questions.” The doctor continues to stitch up my arm-twelve in total. “Hopefully, there won’t be too much scarring. Ellie, I’m gonna have Sam step out for a few minutes so that I can give you a more thorough exam, okay?”

I don’t want Sam to leave; I feel safe with him around, but we’d only known each other for a few hours, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to stay.

“Okay,” I agree. “Can he come back afterward?”

“Of course. Sam, you can go back out to the waiting room, I’ll come and get you when we’re done,” Dr. James instructs.

“I’ll be right out there, okay Ella?” he says as he exits the room, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dr. James steps out as Teresa helps me change into a gown. I avoid looking at myself, but I can feel Teresa’s eyes scanning my body like she's making mental notes of things to tell Dr. James when she comes back. Teresa briefly leaves, allowing me a few minutes by myself, which I use to rehearse the lie in my head.

“Ellie, I know I already asked,” Dr. James says, as she re-enters the room with Teresa right behind her, “but is there something else about the attack that you’d like to tell me?” I shake my head but don’t look at her. “Because I don’t think it was a coyote that hurt you, I think it was a person, and you’re afraid to say something. Did a man attack you?”

“N-no,” I struggle to say.

“Are you sure? Because your injuries look more like you were defending yourself from sexual assault than an animal attack _._ Whatever you tell me will stay between us. I’m not saying that your friend Sam is the one who assaulted you. Maybe it was someone else? Maybe you had set-up a date and things got out of hand? Again, we are not here to judge you. I know your parents can be a little strict and maybe you don’t want them to find out. But Ellie, if someone hurt you _in that way_ , I need to know so that I can give you the proper treatment. If you were assaulted—”

“I wasn’t—” my voice was weak still.

“Ellie, how else do you explain some of your injuries? There are marks littered all over you, and it doesn’t look like the work of a ‘coyote.’ Even now, you’re showing signs of a concussion. An animal attack wouldn’t cause that.”

“I think I blacked out,” I mutter. “It all happened so fast, one minute this thing was charging at me, and the next thing I remember is seeing Sam.”

I curse myself for the way I phrased that. It would only strengthen her belief that this wasn’t an animal attack, but that it was an assault by a person, specifically _Sam._

“Sometimes, our brains do that to protect us from memories that may be too painful. Now, you’re telling me that you blacked out; lost time.” She looks at me with concern. “Is it possible that someone hurt you, and you’ve blocked it out? If someone attacked you, I need to run other tests, take _other_ samples from you. Do you understand?” She pauses, waiting for my response, and I nod. “I’m going to ask one more time, and I’ll believe you no matter what you say. That Sam person, is it possible that he hurt you?”

“No.” I’m firm in my answer this time. “He wasn’t there before the attack. I remember that much. He saved me, and he hasn’t done anything _inappropriate_ with me.”

She nods, but I can tell that she still doesn’t quite believe me, and at this point, I can’t blame her. I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my hair is disheveled, my arms bruised and scratched up, and there are several more bruises on my legs. She tells me that if I feel I need it, I will only have 48 hours for an emergency contraceptive to be effective. I reassure her I won’t need it, but I understand why she is still skeptical.

I re-dress, and Teresa invites Sam back in. I pull him into a hug as soon as he is within reach, he’s my only source of comfort now. Teresa explains that in a few weeks, I will need to have the stitches removed, while Dr. James writes me a pain-med prescription.

Sam and I walk into the waiting area and find Dean pacing in front of the chairs as he mindlessly flips through the pages of a magazine. He sees us and puts down the magazine and smiles.

“How you doin’ Ellie?” he asks with an unexpected softness in his voice, miles away from the cocky guy I had met less than a day ago.

“I’m okay,” I smile. “I’ll be okay,” I say with slightly more confidence.

“You’re a tough girl,” Sam says. “You’ll be alright.”

“You ready for us to take you home?” Dean asks, and I nod.

As soon as we reach for the doors, mom and dad come charging in.

“Lizzy! Thank God! We were so worried about you!” Mom is all but running at me, tears streaming down her face. “I knew I should’ve sent your father to pick you up! It’s too dangerous for you to be walking home alone at night! Look what happened!”

“Lizzy… they said that a coyote attacked you?” Dad reaches out, and I freeze. I tuck my body closer into Sam’s, wrapping both my arms around him. “We couldn’t believe it when they told us, are you okay, honey?”

I give him a weak smile, but remain silent. Dad glances at Sam as he studies us. I can see frustration taking over his thoughts. 

“She’s been pretty quiet since it happened.” Sam’s arm is on my waist, partially holding me up as I begin to shut down again. “She had to get some stitches, but mostly she’s just shaken up.” He explains to them, bringing his hand up around my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” Mom looks at us, unsure of what she was seeing. “Who are you? I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

“I’m Sam… Sam Campbell.” He extends his free hand out to dad for a handshake. “We’ve been tracking the recent animal attacks—"

“Well, _Sam Campbell_ ,” Dad’s voice becomes louder, and his eyes harden as he notices Sam’s arm back down on my waist, still helping support me. “Would you care to explain why the hell you’ve got your arm around my _16-year-old_ daughter?”

Teresa must have told them that they didn’t believe the animal attack story. I can see it all over dad’s face. Dean steps up to Sam’s side, quickly becoming defensive over what dad had been implying. He stands to his full height, even puffing his chest out, ready to go to bat for his brother.

“My brother saved your daughter’s life,” he states coldly. “He hasn’t left her side since it happened. And if you bothered to take two seconds to look at your daughter, you’d be able to see that she’s terrified. Not of my brother, not of me, but you. Right now, my brother is literally the only thing keeping her on her feet. Most people go with ‘ _thank you_ ’ when a person they loved is rescued, but far be for me to tell you what to do.”

I have never heard anyone talk to my dad in such a manner and watch as his pupils go wide. He looks like he’s ready to fight when Dean starts in again.

“And if you want,” Dean steps closer to dad, “we can—” Dean is cut-off when another voice joins the foray. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” John declares, stepping between Dean and my dad. “Dean, the man just learned that his daughter was the victim of a vicious animal attack; he has a right to be defensive. _You know better.”_ he reprimands, trying to diffuse the situation. 

John turns to my dad and extends his hand. “Forgive my son; I raised him better than that. I’m John Campbell. My sons and I helped Ellie out after the attack. I’m so sorry we didn’t catch the _animal_ sooner.”

“Rob Jameson, this is Sarah,” dad extends his hand in greeting, then turns to Sam, “Thank you for saving our daughter.”

“Lizzy is our world.” Mom chokes back her tears and looks to Sam. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what we would have done if we lost her.”

“It was really no problem, ma’am, I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” His voice is low and soothing as he smiles at her.

Sam carefully lifts his arm from around me, before pulling me into a final hug, “You’re gonna be okay, kid. If you need anything,” he pulls a piece of paper out, numbers scratched on it hastily, “or you wanna talk, vent, whatever, call me, okay?”

I nod, taking the paper from him and slip into my pocket as dad slips an arm around my shoulders, maneuvering me away from Sam.

“Come on, Lizzy, let’s go home.” He looks back at Sam and Dean, “Again, thank you.”

Mom steps up on my left, sandwiching me between them. “Do we need to get you anything, sweetie?”

“Dr. James wrote me a prescription for some pain meds,” I say, and I can sense the relief coming from my parents that I’m finally speaking. 

“Okay, we’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way home.”

I look over my shoulder, catching Sam’s eyes and mouth, ‘ _thank you’_. He nods and waves goodbye to me.

Our drive home is mostly silent, grumbles coming from dad every few minutes. I don’t like being apart from Sam. He saved me. What if something happens, and he isn’t there to help? What if there are more of those _things_ out there? What if they come back for me? I feel panic and fear rising within me, and I take deep breaths as I stare out the window trying to calm myself.

“Let’s get you up to your room, Lizzy,” dad says, helping me into the house. “I’m gonna call Joe tomorrow and tell him you’ll need the rest of the break off,” he says as we reach my room. Normally I would protest, but now, I don’t care. All of this is too much for me to wrap my head around.

“Do you need me to help you change?” mom asks, appearing in my doorway.

“Please,” I whisper, somehow my arm hurts even more now, and it will be too painful to change by myself. 

“Okay, Rob, give us a minute,” she says, shooing dad out of my room.

“Oh, sweetie, I can’t believe this happened. Maybe you should tell Joe you can’t work after dark anymore.”

“Mom…” my voice is still weak, “can we not? Please?”

“Lizzy,” her tone changed, “When Teresa called, she said you’d been attacked. That you said it was an animal, but she thinks—"

“I… p-please… I really don’t want to t-talk about it…”

“Was it that boy, Sam?” she asks. “Did he do something to you? You can tell me, sweetie; he’s not here, he can’t do anything. Your father and I, we’ll make sure that he goes away for a long time.”

“S-Sam helped me, he _saved_ me, he stayed with me the whole time afterward,” I whisper, “He’s a good person. He didn’t do anything to hurt me. Please, I just want to sleep.”

“You know your father has seen them around the neighborhood for the last week or so, he says they’re always acting funny, asking strange questions. He also heard the brother-Dean?-say they never stick around one place very long; they might be gone in the morning.”

_No. They can’t leave. Sam can’t leave. I need him. What am I going to do without him here?_

“What?” I nearly cry at the thought of him being gone.

“I want you to stay away from him, Lizzy.” 

Dad re-enters my room as I climb into bed. “Boys like that only want one thing, and if he ever touches you, I’ll kill him.”

“Dad,” I try to keep the desperation out of my voice, “He makes me feel safe.”

“You don’t even know them, Lizzy,” he speaks firmly. “They probably do something like this in every town they go to. They find some vulnerable girl, and they make her believe she needs them.”

“Rob,” Mom can see how dad’s words cut through me, _that can’t be true._ “What your dad is saying is—"

“Those boys are bad news. You aren’t to see them again, especially that Sam person.”

“They saved my life, and now I can’t even speak to them?” I glare at him. “Not even to say ‘thank you’?”

“Lizzy, they’ve done a good thing, but those Campbells are bad news.” 

Mom leans down to kiss my forehead, followed by dad, and they leave me alone in my room.

I think about everything that has happened in the last few hours. Sam, Dean, and John couldn’t be bad news; they saved my life. I close my eyes for a moment, but all I can see are the unnatural gold eyes peering through the darkness and fear courses through me. ‘ _It’s dead. He killed it. Sam killed it.’_ I remind myself. _Sam_. Just the thought of him immediately calms me. I picture his warm kaleidoscope eyes and allow myself to get lost in them as a drift asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love it? hate it? let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome!


	4. Jerk. Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters hunt a monster in a small Texas town and Sam starts planning for the future.

**November 2002**

**__** _Sam POV_

“Dude quit your bitching,” Dean says as we drive into the small town, “Dad’s sure there’s a pack of werewolves in this town. We haven’t seen those in years.”

“Yeah, so we’ll be here for a couple of weeks, and then leave again.” I sigh, “Off to another town, another new school. It’s exhausting. Unlike some people, I like going to school.”

“Aw,” he frowns dramatically, sticking out his bottom lip, “what’s the matter, Sammy? Can’t make any new friends?”

“Fuck you,” I say, rolling my eyes, “I just wanna stick around one place long enough so I can get my diploma.” I half-lie, knowing he wouldn’t like my real reasoning for wanting to stay in one place. “Every time we get settled, a new case drops into our laps, and we pack up and leave.” 

“Sam, if it’s so important, just drop out and get your GED, like me,” he quips.

“It’s not the same, Dean.” 

“C’mon, you think you’re gonna learn more in a high school than we do out on the road?”

“Like hand-to-hand combat, and how to melt silver into bullets? Or salt circles to keep spirits away? Yeah, important life skills.” I scoff.

“As opposed to what, algebra?” he laughs. “Tell me, when was the last time that knowing the three branches of government helped us in a case? I can think of at least a dozen times when knowing those ‘life skills’ saved your ass, and will probably keep saving your ass when I’m not there to bail you out.”

“Who said I want to keep doing this?” Dean shoots me a look. It’s partly anger, but I can tell it hurts him too.

“So, saving people, hunting things… that’s not good enough for you. You’re too good for the family business?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I just want to be able to do more, okay? Can we drop it?” We sit in silence as Dean pulls into a motel on the edge of the town. 

I re-read the newspaper articles again as Dean goes inside to get us a room. Four victims in three months, all attended the university about thirty minutes away. Two of the girls were local, and besides the university, there is seemingly no overlap between the victims.

“Get this,” I say as Dean returns with a set of keys to our room. “The last victim wasn’t killed during the full moon.”

“So?” He says as he unlocks the door to our room.

“ _So_ ,” I look around as we enter the motel room, our temporary home. There’s nothing special about it; it looks nearly identical to the hundreds of other motels we’ve stayed in before; 2 beds, a TV, and a kitchenette. “Werewolves can only transform under a full moon. This last victim, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe the last victim was killed by something else,” Dean states, tossing his duffle onto the floor by the table and plopping down on the bed. ”Or maybe it’s been recently turned; we’ve heard stories about how they can’t really control when they change. Either way, we have a week before the next full moon.”

“Or _maybe_ dad’s wrong, and it’s not a werewolf. He can be wrong sometimes, y’ know?”

“So what?” He sits up slightly on the bed. “You think this town has a werewolf _and_ a murderer problem?”

“I don’t know. I think the last death is worth looking into.”

“We will. Tomorrow. Dad wants us to interview some of the locals, see if they’ve seen anything _weird_ , besides maybe Jesus in a block of cheese.” Dean laughs at his lame attempt at a joke. “I mean, dude, we’ve been to some small towns, but this is a _small town_.” He shudders and leans back against the headboard. “Can you imagine living here?”

“I mean--”

“I’m gonna turn in.” He yawns, “You should do the same.” 

Dean’s asleep within minutes, he’d been driving for almost two days straight, our last case taking us to New York. Sighing, I sit on the end of the other bed, dropping my duffle near my feet. Dean grunts and rolls onto his side, facing away from me. I hesitantly pull out a college brochure from the corner compartment of my bag that the counselor at my last school gave to me, _Stanford._ Dean is snoring now, so I know I have some privacy for a while and quietly flip through the pages, reading about their programs and admission requirements. I move up the bed and tuck the brochure under the pillow. Leaning back against the headboard, I think about what I need to do to get in and don’t realize I've fallen asleep until Dean wakes me the next morning.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” he yells, making no effort to be quiet, _dick._

“Fuck off, Dean,” I mumble.

“C’mon, dad called, said he had to take a detour to Minnesota.”

“Pastor Jim?”

“I guess. He said it might be a week before he gets here. Said to work the case, look for a connection between all the victims. I’m gonna speak with the medical examiner.” I watch as he fiddles with the collar of his only dress shirt. “And you Sammy boy get to do your favorite thing: research. Get dressed; we’re leaving in fifteen.”

Dean’s waiting in the Impala before I finish getting dressed, “Ramblin’ On” blaring from the car speakers as I step outside. 

I didn’t notice yesterday, but the motel itself is just outside the city limits, the sign we pass on the way back into town reading: _Weldon, Texas, Population 3152._ There’s only one street running through it, Main Street. ‘O _f course,’_ I chuckle to myself when I read the street sign. _‘What else would it be called?’_

“How much do you wanna bet there’s a store where they spell shop with the two p’s and an e?” Dean laughs as he blasts Led Zeppelin, garnering annoyed looks from the people we pass by. “Twenty bucks?”

“Only if the next intersection has a dead president’s name.”

“Oh, you’re on. My money’s on Johnson; this is his home state.” 

Dean slows his driving as we inch towards the intersection. _Fairfield_.

“Damn it!”

We drive through the center of the town, passing a burger joint. I know Dean has already decided that’s where we will have lunch. And dinner. And lunch again tomorrow. There’s very little traffic, but it’s the weekend and still early in the day. I note that most people walk or ride bikes instead of driving. I figure I can walk from the center of town back to the motel in less than twenty minutes.

Dean drops me at the local library. I go in under the guise of a college student writing a paper on the town’s history. Not wanting to draw her suspicion, I ease into asking the librarian if she has heard anything about the recent killings. She says no, but her body language tells me that she’s hiding something. She points to the staircase to the lower level and tells me to call her for any help. I make my way into a small room where I can view the microfiche of the local newspaper. I find that there hasn’t been a suspicious death of any kind in the last five years. Now there’s been three in the last three months. Dad’s right, there’s _something_ in this town. 

Dean and I meet at the burger place to compare notes. Dean tells me that when he viewed the body, he couldn’t tell if her heart was missing, and there was no mention of missing organs in the coroner’s report.

We spend the next few days checking out the town and surrounding area, waiting on dad to join us. My usual routine would be to register at the local high school as soon as we get settled at a motel. But this time, I decide to wait until after we figure out what’s killing people and for dad to determine how long we will stay here. There isn’t any point in going to a new school for a few days, especially with Thanksgiving break coming up, just for dad to find another case on the other side of the country after we’ve finished here. 

We interview the roommates and friends of each of the victims and finally get our connection, _Joe’s Burgers_. Each one had been there within two days of her death.

“It’s gotta be where the wolves target them,” Dean says as we walk towards the Impala. “It can’t be a coincidence that they were all there.”

“It’s not like there’s that many options around for food,” I say as we get into the car, “you’ve eaten there almost every day since we got here.”

“Yeah, but the first three victims were all there the night of their deaths.” 

“So, you think it’s someone who works there?”

“The simplest explanation is usually the right one,” he says. “We should find out which employees were working the nights the girls came in, and boom, we’ll find our wolf.”

The drive back to the motel is short, and when we pull in, dad’s waiting for us in his truck. We tell him of the connection we’ve made, and he insists on going directly to the restaurant to interview the employees. 

_Joe’s_ is a small restaurant, and every time we had been there, it was packed. It is late afternoon now, though, and we’ve arrived during the lull between the lunch and dinner rush, allowing us to interview the owner.

“Hey, Sammy, look,” Dean says, as we walk past the large windows. He looks back at dad, who is on the phone a few feet away. “Ten bucks says I can get her number.” He points to a girl standing behind the counter. 

“Dude, have you not already hit on every girl that works here?” 

“Nah, I haven’t seen this one,” he grins, ”fresh meat.”

I glance at her again, “She’s jailbait.”

“Twenty bucks!” He grins. “Come on, Sammy, you know you want it too.”

I roll my eyes at him. “No cheating, can’t tell her you need it for something else. She has to give _you_ her number, not _Agent Ford._ ”

“Watch and learn, Sammy.” He smirks as we walk into the building.

The girl has her back to us as we walk up to the counter, and Dean clears his throat to get her attention. She turns, pink tinges her cheeks, and she chews at her bottom lip while staring at us. 

I try to suppress my laughter as Dean uses one of the worst pickup lines on the waitress. She stares at him, mouth agape, as he tries another, this time bringing me into it. Her face turns crimson at the comment.

Dad steps up behind us and smacks Dean upside his head when he hears what’s going on. “Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” At the same time, the waitress seems to find her voice and retorts with a silly comeback.

Ever persistent, Dean tries one more time, not wanting to lose the bet. “Just blink if you want me.” 

She intentionally doesn’t blink while staring him down. Dad huffs, and I know that he wants the bullshit that’s happening in front of him to end, so he asks the waitress how old she is.

“Sixteen,” she answers, turning away from Dean and moves closer to the register, and I silently celebrate, knowing that Dean will back off. Dad apologizes to the girl, calling us “walking hormones.” 

“I didn’t even do anything!” I scoff, _I didn’t make Dean hit on her._

“Cut the crap, Sam. I heard you when we walked in,” he says, grabbing both Dean and me by our shirt and forcing us to stand in front of her, “Now apologize to… Eliza”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Dean offers. Eliza is not buying his half-assed apology, hitting back with “frat boys.” 

“What the fu—”

“Yeah, _frat boy,_ don’t mess with the townie,” I mock, he’s furious. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts; even dad gets a chuckle out of it. Intentional or not, she couldn’t have picked a better insult. 

“Listen, _Eliza_ , we ain’t no frat guys… in fact, we’re here because---”

“Alright, Dean, that’s enough. How about we start over, yeah? I’m John, you already know Dean, and this is Sam,” he gestures towards me. “We’re investigating the local animal killings and wanted to know if you’ve seen or heard anything weird or suspicious.” Dad pulls out his Fish and Wildlife badge, showing it to Ellie.

She explains that the owner Joe knows a lot about the inner workings of the town and then goes to grab him so that we can talk with him.

“Dude, _sixteen_ , I told you! Give me my money, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he says, handing over a twenty-dollar bill.

“She was obviously not eighteen, stick to girls your own age,” dad chastises, and I snicker at Dean. “Sammy, that goes for you too,” Dean then laughs at me.

Another waitress comes to the register and takes our order; she happily flirts back when Dean drops another terrible pickup line. She tells us to seat ourselves, and I gag when Dean mentions a very specific place he’d like her to sit. I watch discreetly as Ellie makes her way back to the counter, eyes trying to avoid us. 

“Someone's got a crush," Dean says, looking between me and Ellie, as we sit down at a table.

"Shut up. I do nothave a crush."

"Oh, but _she_ does. Brother, I bet it’d be _totally_ worth it,” Dean comments, “for you, I mean.”

"Dean, drop it,” dad says, "we're here to work the case, not for you two to get laid."

"'Sides, did you forget the part where she's _sixteen_?" I say louder than I intended.

“I’ll be seventeen in a month,” she appears, dropping off our food.

“Huh?” 

“Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I’ll be seventeen in a month.”

“Still illegal, Dean.” I shoot him my best shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy,” Dean winks at me.

“Boys, stop treating the girl like she’s a piece of meat,” dad doesn’t even look up.

“Well, here in the Great State of Texas, the age of consent is seventeen; it’s not _technically_ illegal.” She flashes a wink at Dean.

“Oh, Ellie, you’re killing me here.” Dean moaned, “I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here? He could help you out.”

I’ve never felt my blood rush to my face so quickly; she laughs and walks away.

“ _Dude_. What the fuck? Why would you say that?” I say, throwing some of my fries at him.

“What? It’s true. Yeah, right now, it’s borderline illegal, but after she turns 17-” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like we’re even gonna still be here then.”

We wait for a few minutes for the owner, and I notice Ellie pointing us out to him.

“Ellie said you wanted to speak with me about the recent attacks,” he says, extending his hand for dad to shake. “Joe Harrison.” He sits in one of the empty chairs.

"John Campbell," Dad replies, producing his badge again. "She said you're the man to speak to about anything strange. Says you know everything about everything."

"I don’t know if I would say that," Joe laughs dryly. "But I'll help in any way I can."

"Have you noticed any animals that wouldn't normally be in this area? Or anyone complaining about animals or people acting odd?"

“Not really. Well, Frank--- the butcher across the street, he’s a little odd, but he’s mostly harmless."

"The butcher," Dad repeats, looking at Dean and me. I know he is now a suspect. "Anyone else? Or anything that you've seen over the last few months?"

Joe pauses for a moment; we've been doing this long enough to know that he's hiding something.

“Can you tell me who was working the nights of the attacks?” Dad asks as Dean produces a piece of paper with dates written on it, handing it over to Joe. “We’d like to speak with them as well.”

“I couldn’t say for sure without looking at the schedule,” Joe says as he studies the paper. “Dan and I are here almost every day, and most of the serving staff are local kids.”

“Dan is?” 

"The cook.” Dad shoots me and Dean another look; Joe catches on this time. “You don't think it was an animal, do you?" He asks. "This is a small town, Mr. Campbell, and sometimes the high school students go a little stir crazy, but they’re good kids. Almost every family who lives here goes back at least two or three generations. I'm not saying we don't have our share of bad eggs, but it’s mostly good people.”

Dad takes out a silver fork and places it in front of Joe, watching for some kind of reaction. He doesn’t even flinch but gives dad an odd look. The restaurant starts to pick up again, distracting Joe from the fork. Dad gives him a ‘business card’ and insists that Joe call if he thinks of anything else that might help.

We stay at the restaurant for another hour, watching patrons and the staff for anyone acting weird. It’s starting to get dark when we leave the restaurant. I looked over to Dean, who wiggles his eyebrows at me again, “you should go talk to her, man.”

“Leave it alone, Dean,” I grumble.

“There are a couple of people I want to interview,” dad interrupts us. “Dean, you and I are then gonna check out the area where the bodies were found, see if we can find the pack. Sam, you stay here, watch the butcher, Joe and the cook, and call us if anything happens. Don’t do anything stupid. You wait for your brother and me, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir. Observe, don’t do anything stupid.” I repeat back to him.

For hours, that’s what I do. The butcher shop closes first, and I go scope out the building. As the night goes on, the other businesses close, and I watch as the employees from Joe’s leave and start walking home.

That’s when I see it. It doesn’t look like any wolf we had ever hunted before. It looks like a man, maybe it's some kind of crossbreed monster. I watch as it follows the two girls, and I know I need to follow it too. I grab my phone and quickly call Dean.

“What?” he answers harshly.

“I see it,” I whisper. “I think it’s gonna attack.”

“Sammy, wait,” his voice calms. “Where are you?”

“I’m…” I look around for a street sign. “It’s going west on Franklin.”

“West on Franklin,” he repeats.

“Sam,” dad’s voice replaces Dean’s. “Do not engage. Do you understand me? We’ll be there in less than 10 minutes. Do not try to take it down, you hear me?”

“Dad, it’s following—”

“That’s an order son, you wait for Dean and me,” he abruptly ends the call.

Damn it, I can’t not do anything, And I can’t wait for them to show up. This _thing_ , it’s stalking those girls. I decide that I need to make sure that it doesn’t attack, and if it tries to, maybe I can stop it.

The two girls part ways; one walks a little further up the street and to her own home, the other keeps walking.

This thing is getting bold, even from far away I can hear it growling in the bushes. Suddenly it jumps out, and the girl freezes in her tracks. _Shit._ I pull my gun out, grateful that Dean and dad insisted that I load it with silver bullets. I run to quickly close the gap so that I have a better chance of getting it through the heart. This thing is going to kill her, or at least, it’s going to try to turn her. I can’t let that happen.

I see it lift its arm, and as it comes down, I fire my gun. She falls backward, and from where I’m standing, I can’t tell if it injured her or if it just scared the crap out of her.

It goes down, and I see who it was stalking, the girl from Joe's, Ellie. I try to speak to her, but she doesn’t respond. I put my gun away and show her my hands. Her eyes meet mine, and I have to remind myself to remain calm. The last thing she needs is another person panicking. I’ve got to get her talking.

“Hey, do you remember me? We met at Joe’s earlier?”

She nods slowly. “Sam.”

“Right. Eliza, right?”

I can barely get any words out of her; she’s nearly catatonic. I do my best to comfort her and assure her she is safe, silently counting the minutes until Dean and dad get to us. I look her over, noticing the gash on her arm, and I realize we are still very close to the thing that attacked her. 

I pick her up and move her away; she begins to berate herself for not reacting to the creature. I remember dad giving Dean and me a similar speech when we worked our first case alone. ‘ _It’s not just fight or flight,’_ dad’s voice echoes in my head, ‘ _sometimes, they freeze.’_

I mimic his wording, relieved that she’s speaking. 

“What was that thing?” I’ve never given a victim “the talk” before, dad, or Dean taking the lead on it. I open my mouth to speak, but I hear a low roaring. The noise scares her, making her jump. I stand up, adrenaline already pumping, ready to draw my gun if another wolf attacks. It only takes a second for me to realize that I’m hearing the Impala, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Sammy!” Dad calls, stepping out of the Impala, “Son, what the hell happened?”

Dean takes off, exiting the car and checks out the area. 

“You were supposed to be three blocks over, tracking the—”

“It’s over there,” I say, looking at the dead wolf. 

“God Dammit Sam! I told you to watch and report only.” I know this is the start of a lecture. We get the same one whenever we disobey orders. “This was not something for you to do on your own, you wait for your brother or me! You know that!”

“Dad… he got it; it’s dead.” Dean says, approaching us. “Man, you got some real balls on you, taking down a—”

They both step closer and see Ellie, cowering on the ground behind me, crying.

“What happened here, Sam?” Dad’s tone changes.

“It was following Ellie and her friend," I explain, "and when they split up, it tried to attack Ellie. I had to act, dad. It would have killed her.” Adrenaline is still coursing through me, and my breathing is ragged. It isn’t my first solo kill, but it is my first solo save. “It tried to _bite_ her. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Okay, easy son,” dad says, putting his hand on my shoulder, gesturing with the other to breathe deeply in and out. “You did good.” He takes a few steps towards Ellie, and she begins to shake. “It’s okay darlin’, I won’t come any closer,” he soothes her. “Do you know what happened?” She shakes her head, “That’s okay, you’re safe now. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you, Ellie.” 

Dean voices his concern that it may have bitten her. I didn’t see that it did, but the thing wanted to. I tell them of the gash that I know is on her arm, and dad instructs us to take her to a doctor while he takes care of the body. She seems to relax a little when I approach her, letting me help her up and walk her to the Impala. She gasps at the sight of it, causing Dean to beam with pride.

“She’s a beauty, huh?” Dean opens the back door to allow her in. I see him make a face when he notices her arm, “Dude, make sure that she’s not bleeding, I just cleaned Baby out.”

“Nice, Dean, really sensitive,” I say as she slides into the back seat, wanting to tell him to fuck off. 

“Come on, man!” he tries to laugh it off, “You know I’m not serious!”

“Dean!” Dad’s voice cuts into Dean’s laughter, “Cut the shit and get this girl some help!” 

I climb into the back seat, and Ella leans against me, telling us that the nearest hospital is in the next town over. Dean comments again about the possibility of her being bitten and what could happen if she was, and her face goes pale. She asks again about what attacked her. Dean makes eye contact with me through the rearview mirror.

“Tell her, man.” She looks between us. “The talk.”

I quickly run it through my head, hearing dad and Dean give it multiple times. She hardly makes a noise as I explain that most things, ghosts, monsters, things she couldn’t even think of, are real, and we hunt them down. She takes a deep breath, and it seems something else dawns on her.

“My parents—it’s so late, they’re gonna be so worried… what am I gonna tell them?” she starts crying again.

“Don’t worry about that, Ella,” I tell her calmly. “I’ll call them for you, okay? I’ll explain what happened. Do you have a cell phone?” She shakes her head, and I pull a piece of scrap paper out, as Dean rummages through the glove compartment for a pen, tossing it over the front seat. I can see a moment of panic set in. “I won’t tell them the truth. It was an animal attack.” I’m not familiar enough with this area to know what kind of animals live here, but I remember she mentioned coyotes when we spoke earlier. “Coyote, maybe?”

“Coyote attack,” she confirms.

We pull up to the clinic, and Dean goes in ahead of us. I help Ella out of the car and into the building. The nurse immediately recognizes Ella and begins asking questions. I tell her our story and introduce myself. Sam _Campbell,_ dad had insisted we never use our real last name when working a case. We broke too many laws and didn’t need someone figuring out who we really are. ‘ _Use Campbell_ , _never Winchester_.’

Ella insists that I come with her when the nurse tries to direct her to an exam room. I don’t know how to say ‘no’ to her. She’s terrified, traumatized, and I’m the only person she seems to trust right now. 

At the same time, the doctor examines Ella’s arm, she pokes and prods the story we tell her, looking for holes, but I don’t falter. The doctor eases up on the questions once Ella starts to speak and confirm my answers. Relief washes through me as she responds to the doctor’s questions.

“I’m gonna ask Sam to leave for a few minutes to give you a more thorough exam, is that okay?” Ella goes a little wide-eyed but agrees, and the doctor tells me to go back into the waiting room.

“I’ll be right out there, okay, Ella?” I want to assure her that I’m not leaving her, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I walk back to the waiting room, where Dean is staring off into nowhere. I offer a tight-lipped smile and sit across from him.

“How is she?” 

“She’ll be okay,” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “You hear from dad?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna meet us here a little bit,” Dean seems to notice that I’m still on edge, and offers some encouragement. “You did good, Sammy.” He pats my shoulder, “you saved her.”

“She just, she _froze_. I mean, I know that’s how some people react, but she just stood there as that thing came at her. I had to shoot it. I was too far away to do anything else,” I rant.

“Sammy,” he gets up from his seat and moves to the empty one next to me. “You did everything right. You know that sometimes we can’t get the monsters until the attack, as much as we try to gank them beforehand, we have to wait,” he says, trying to reassure me. “You said it yourself; she’s gonna be okay. You got there just in time; _you_ saved her _.”_

“They’re suspicious,” I look around to make sure no one is close by, lowering my voice. “The doctor and nurse, they’re not buying the coyote story.” 

He’s silent for a moment. “Do you think she’s telling them something else?”

“I don’t know, man. Ella barely spoke while I was in there with her. I mean, if you just saw the aftermath, what would you think?”

We both know how it looks. 

I ask the receptionist for a piece of paper and write one of our many numbers down, planning on giving it to Ella. Dean grins knowingly at me when he notices what I’m doing.

After 20 minutes or so, I get called back into Ella’s room. She pulls me into a tight hug. We listen as the nurse gives aftercare instructions then walk back to the waiting room so Dean and I can take her home.

“How you doin’ Ellie?” Dean asks. Ella smiles and assures us that she is doing fine.

“You’re a tough girl; you’ll be alright.” My arm is still around her, and I look down to see she has nuzzled into my side.

“You ready to go home?” Dean asks, and she nods.

As we reach the doors, an older couple comes charging in. I quickly gather that they are Ella’s parents. Ella remains silent as they ask their questions, and I can’t stop my arm from going around her in support. Her father doesn’t like that. I try to introduce myself and hold my free hand out to shake his, but he just stares back at me.

“Well, _Sam Campbell_ , who the hell are you and why do you have your hands on my _16-year-old_ daughter?” I see Dean getting defensive and go into _big brother mode_ , ready to take this man down. I feel Ella’s body tense and squeeze her shoulder. Luckily dad walks in and quickly diffuses the situation.

“Dean, you know better,” he warns. “Forgive my son; I raised him better than that. I’m John Campbell. My sons and I helped Ellie after the attack. I’m sorry we weren’t able to catch the animal sooner.”

Her parents introduce themselves and sincerely thank us this time. I pull Ella in for one final hug and then let her go.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” I say, pulling the paper out. “If you need anything, or wanna talk, vent, whatever, call me, okay?”

Her father reaches out and pulls her to him. “Let’s go home, Lizzy.” Her mother quickly appears on her other side, and they begin to walk her out. She turns her head back to me, mouthing ' _thank you_.' I smile and wave goodbye. As soon as they are out the door, dad’s mood changes. He has us wait a few minutes before we leave the clinic.

“Dean, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?” his voice booms as we reach the parking lot. “Those parents are out of their mind with worry, and you’re trying to start a fight?”

“You didn’t hear the way he was talking to Sam,” Dean defends. “The way he was looking at us like _we_ were the bad guys! Sam saved that girl!”

“Dean,” dad calms slightly. “You know that’s not how to speak with a victim's family, regardless of how they’re acting.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean mumbles.

“Sammy?” Dad turns to me. “How’s the girl? Any permanent damage?”

“No. Stitches, that’s it,” I report.

“Good.”

I sit silently in the back seat as we drive back to the motel. Dad’s in the front seat as Dean goes on about how they took out two wolves. I can’t focus on anything he says, Ella is the only thing on my mind.

“Sammy?” Dean pulls me out of my thoughts, and I realize we’re back at the motel. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Dad’s already making his way inside the room. “What?”

“I said, we’re gonna be sticking around. A few more weeks, at least.”

“That’s great,” I say, not really paying attention. I touch my arm, and I can still feel Ella clutching onto me. 

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.” He says, laughing.

“Wh—what are you talking about?” I question. I know _exactly_ what he’s talking about.

“Ellie— _Ella,_ ” he taunts, as we walk into our room. Dad’s already in the bathroom; I can hear the shower running. “You like her.”

“No, shut up, I don’t likeher. Not like that. I saved her; that’s it.”

“So I imagined your arm around her?” he smirks, slumping down on his bed. He pulls out his gun and attentively starts cleaning it. “And how she didn’t want you to leave her?”

“ _No_ ,” I’m thankful his attention is focused on his task and can not see how the blood rushes to my face. “You know that sometimes a victim will imprint on the person who rescues them. ‘Sides, we met less than 12 hours ago, she just survived a freaking _werewolf_ attack, I was comforting her. Trying to make her feel safe.”

“Okay, Sammy, keep telling yourself that,” he laughs, “you were _comforting_ her.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”


	5. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Ella have a long-overdue conversation, and she reveals her secret to him.

**Present**

_ Ella's POV _

“Ellie, you’re squeezing my arm,” Cordy whines. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I let her go, and she turns to face my parents and me. “Mom, can I have some money to play games?” she asks, pointing at the older arcade games near the back of the restaurant.

_ ‘Mom _ ?’ Sam mouths, looking from me to my mother. I can see the wheels in his head turn as he waits for one of us to answer.

“Sure, baby.” Mom reaches into her purse and hands Cordy a couple of dollars. “But, this is all you’re getting, okay?”

For a moment, relief washes over his face, and he exhales deeply. Cordy runs past Sam as he watches her intently. 

“We should get together while we’re in town, how about tomorrow?” he asks, meeting my eyes again. “We can meet back here?”

“Y-yeah, we have a lot to catch up on.” 

“We do.” His lips form a tight smile. “Two o’clock? We’ll meet here, and decide on where to go from there?”

“Sure,” I nod my head in agreement. I have so many questions that need answers, and he’s the only one that can give them to me. He’s about to speak again when Cordy interrupts him.

“Daddy! You gotta come see this!” she hollers from the back of the restaurant. “ _ Dad _ ! Come on! I’m about to get the high score!”

“I’m coming, Delia,” Dad says, excusing himself. “Sam.”

“Mr. Jameson. I’m surprised you’re still here,” Sam says sharply.

“Yes, well, plans change,” dad responds curtly, turning away from Sam. “You should know that better than anyone.”

“Rob, this is not the time.” Mom is trying to keep the peace. “Go see your daughter get the high score.”

I stand in front of Sam, mindlessly picking at my fingernails. I think about the last time I saw him and how different he looks now. His hair is longer, the odd grey strand poking through the chestnut color. His face is thin, pain and regret etched on his face, reminding me of John. For a moment, I get lost in his eyes, studying the amber color and the flecks of green that don’t shine as brightly as they used to. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, Cordy comes barrelling towards me.

“Ellie! I did it!” Cordy says excitedly. “I got the high score! Take that  _ IMPALA67 _ ! I own you!” she laughs wildly.

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean mutters. “I worked hard for that.”

Sam’s attention is back on Cordy. As if the longer he looks at her, the more her resemblance to me becomes clear. 

“I kicked your ass!” 

“Cordelia Mary Jameson. Watch your language,” dad barks at her, Sam’s breathing hitches at Cordy’s middle name. 

“So, I’ll see you, t-tomorrow?” Sam asks, turning to face me.

“Yeah, Sam, tomorrow.”

We say our good-byes. I can tell that Sam wants to ask about Cordy, and I’m thankful that he doesn’t. This is not the place to do it. Mom and dad are already out of the parking lot by the time Cordy and I reach my car; Sam and Dean leave the restaurant just a few moments later. They give us a final wave before heading towards the Impala, which I somehow didn’t notice when we pulled in earlier.

“It’s not fair, Ellie! You are allowed to say whatever you want!” Cordy pouts as we get into my car.

“I’m a grown-up, Cordy.” I try reasoning with her. “When I was your age, I wasn’t allowed to say those words either.”

“It’s still not fair,” she crosses her arms and huffs, dramatics are her specialty.

“Hate to break it to you kid, but life’s not fair sometimes.”  _ Don’t I know it. _ “When you’re a little older, you’ll understand.”

We sit in the car for a few minutes as I wait for her to cheer up. I pull up the one song I know will make her smile.

_ I got my ticket for the long way ‘round _ _   
_ _ Two bottles ‘a whiskey for the way _ __   
_ And I sure would like some sweet company _ _   
_ __ And I’m leaving tomorrow, whaddya say

“When I’m gone!” she joins in as we head home. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone!”

“You’re gonna miss me by my hair.”

“You’re gonna miss me everywhere.”

“Oh, you’re sure gonna miss me when I’m gone!” We sing together.

“That tall man, Sammy, who was he? Was he your boyfriend?” Cordy asks, unknowingly striking a nerve with me.

“Why do you think he was a boyfriend?” I say, trying to keep my composure.

“He was giving you googly eyes.”

“Y-yeah, a long time ago, before you were born.”

“Does he really hunt monsters?” I wish Dean had never said such a thing to her; she doesn’t need to know that monsters exist. 

“He does. He actually saved me from one,” I say as we pull into the driveway of my parents’ house.

“Did he really?” she asks as we walk up to the front door.

“Did who really what?” Mom looks between us as she opens the door.

“Sammy! Ellie said that he saved her from a monster!”

“It was  _ hardly _ a monster, Lizzy.” Mom sighs. “It was a coyote. You never did tell us--” 

“He saved me,” I interrupt her. Over the years, mom had tried to get more information about what had actually happened that night, but I would always change the subject. “It was really scary, but he  _ saved  _ me.”

Cordy seems satisfied with my answer and runs upstairs to her room.

“Really, Lizzy, a monster?” Mom chastises me. “Why would you tell her something like that? Now she’s gonna have nightmares,” she says, before lowering her voice. “Why were you talking about Sam?”

“She asked about him. I didn’t say _anything_ ” I snap back at her, "He doesn't know. She doesn't know. No one in this fucking town knows that Cordy is _my_ _daughter_ and not yours."

"Eliza Renee!" she pulls the front door closed, looking desperately behind her. "She might hear you. We’ve talked about this, your father and I are Delia’s parents, not you and Sam."

" _ I know _ . I'm not a child, mother. Stop treating me like one.” She knew I wouldn't tell Cordy without them there, something we had agreed on years ago. “I already told you, I didn't say anything, why would I? He chose to leave us rather than stay. You think I want her to know that her father abandoned us the first chance he got?" 

Mom stares silently at me, tears brimming in her eyes. We’ve avoided the topic of Sam for years; it was too painful for me. She’s hiding something. I can see it on her face, the way she bites her lip as she composes her next thought. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see him, Lizzy. The last time he was here...” she sighs heavily, “I don't want to see you get hurt again. Sam--"

“I don't want to talk about it, I’ll see you in the morning.” I cut her off before stepping inside the house, making my way up to my room. 

Memories of him plague my mind. Sam  _ fucking _ Winchester. Of all places, why did he have to come back here? After what he did? My shock and happiness of seeing him quickly drift away. Anger now consumes me. I have so many questions that I want to ask him. I have to know why, why he chose Stanford. Why he couldn’t’ve at least told me to my face. Why would he tell me all those things, and then just take off? I would’ve been upset,  _ devastated _ , but at least I would’ve gotten some closure. I have to do it. I need my answers. It is the least he can do.

Dreams of the day I found out I was pregnant, and when I learned he left, had kept me up most of the night. I have all the questions committed to memory. If it takes all day, he is going to answer them. I deserve to know why. I do my best to compose myself, I throw on some old clothes and shout good-bye to mom and dad.

“Are you going to see Sammy?” Cordy asks, “Don’t forget to tell him about the soul-eater!”

“Okay, kid,” I laugh, kissing the top of her head. I don’t need to tell him, from what Dean said yesterday, that’s precisely why they’re back in this crappy town. Probably never planned on coming here again, most likely so he wouldn’t have to face me.

I drive to Joe’s and see the Impala already parked on the street. Sam and Dean are in the midst of what looks like a heated discussion. 

I park my car and walk to the front of Joe’s, waiting for him to get out of the car. After a few minutes, he does, smiling as he walks towards me.

“Ella,” he leans in to hug me, but I back away from him.

“ _ Sam _ .” All my nervousness and nostalgia from yesterday is gone. He seems confused by my stiffness towards him.

“Do you want to go in?” he asks as he walks toward the entrance of the restaurant, reaching for the door.

“No.” I can’t let him try to charm me, “we can go to the park. We can talk there. I have a lot of things I need to say to you, Sam. Questions I need answered.”

“Yeah, Ella, I do too,” he replies stiffly. I’m shocked. What questions would he need answered?

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

I start walking to the nearby park, and Sam keeps pace right behind me. I spot an empty picnic table and head towards it. Taking a seat on the wooden bench as Sam takes one opposite me. We sit there awkwardly for a few minutes, neither one of us wanting to be the first to speak. I remind myself to take deep breaths; it’s the first time we’ve been alone together in eleven years.

“You look good, Ella,” he says, breaking the silence between us.

“Thanks.” 

“I-- I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently,” he says, a tinge of pink filling his cheeks. “About  _ us. _ How we never got to say good-bye. After the baby, I was really messed up.”

“Yeah, I was too,” I say, looking down at my fingers. “It was really hard.”

_ “ _ Cordelia," he says as if he’s changing the topic, “cute kid. I don’t remember your mom being pregnant. How old is she?” My eyebrows furrow at his question.

“Ten,” I state matter-of-factly. “She’ll be 11 in November.”

“She looks so much like you.” He smiles as I look back up at him. I see his eyes race as he processes what I said. The panic that had quickly subsided yesterday is back with a vengeance. “Ten?” He asks, forehead wrinkling. “Birthday in November?” He’s doing the math in his head. “Her eyes,” he mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite make out, “they look just like mine.” 

I stare at him blankly, watching as a million questions play on his face. He opens his mouth and closes it quickly. He looks at me almost as if he wants me to say it, but I refuse. I need to hear him say it. I can see the frustration wash over him before looking down at the table, tracing the patterns in the wood with my fingers.

“Is Cordelia… ” he takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s afraid of the answer. “She’s mine, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” 

“Fuck!” Sam’s hands cover his face. “W-Why, Ella? You knew I wanted to be there. To be a part of her life, a part of yours.” his voice is muffled. Tears are forming in his eyes, and I can't believe what I’m seeing. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“You abandoned us, Sam!” I yell, unexpectedly letting my anger get the better of me and bringing attention to us from onlookers. “ _ You--" _ I pause to lower my voice, reminding myself to keep calm. "You abandoned us. I believed you, Sam, everything you told me. But you're the one who ran away.  _ You _ left me.”

“W-what?” He stutters, seemingly confused.

“After I t-told you I was pregnant, you said that you were going to take me with you—”

“I remember,” he said softly, "graduation."

“You told me to wait for a few days, ‘cause you had to tell your dad that you were leaving for Stanford and taking us with you. I waited. I got excited about the thought of leaving with you. My parents were furious, they--" I didn't like thinking about my parents' reaction to my pregnancy. "I went to the motel on Monday, like you told me to, and you were gone. I loved you, Sam, and you broke my heart.”

“You came to the motel?” he asks, taking in all the information. “Wait, I broke  _ your _ heart? Ella, I wanted you to come with me, I wasn’t lying when I told you that. But when I went to your house, your parents wouldn’t let me talk to you. I begged them, but they said you didn’t want to see me."

"What?" I study his face curiously. Had my parents been lying to me all these years?

“Your dad said that if I didn’t stay away from you, they were going to press charges against me. Say that I forced you, that you had some kind of Stockholm Syndrome,” he explains. “They had me scared shitless. I meant what I said, I wanted you to come with me.”

“But you still left,” I whispered. I was hoping for answers, but this conversation was only eliciting more questions. “You still left without me.”

“I know, Ella, and I’m sorry. But your parents—"

“My parents couldn’t do anything to you; I was 17, you had just turned 19. We didn’t even start dating before that. Maybe they didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it.”

“I know that _ now _ .” He fidgets with his hands. “But I had to get away from my dad, Ella. You know that. And Stanford was my way out.” He looks up from the table, directly meeting my eyes for the first time since we sat down.  _ Stanford was his way out. _ Comprehension hits me harder than I expected, and a floodgate of emotions wash over me. I can feel the tears welling, quicker than I can will them away.

“I thought I was your way out.” My voice cracks and I let out a deep. shuddering breath. 

“You were, but you remember how controlling my dad was back then? How against he was about the idea of us being together?”

“That didn’t stop you from continuing to see me. If you weren’t serious about me, you could have told me. You didn’t have to make me fall in love with you, Sam. You could have been honest with me.”

“I never lied to you, Ella," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And it's not fair for you to put all the blame on me. You're not the only one who was manipulated. After I left your house, I told dad about Stanford; he freaked out. When I told him that I was leaving and that I was going to take you with me, he said I couldn’t take you because you were technically still a minor and that I should forget about you. And when I told him about the baby, we got into this huge fight. Dean had to break it up, he took me to a bar, and we stayed out the rest of the night.”

I remember how John acted the morning I showed up at the motel. “John knew,” I say, closing my eyes.

“Yeah, I told him about the baby.”

“No.” I take a deep breath, opening my eyes to see him looking at me with confusion. “He knew that I wanted to keep her, said he would tell you.” I shake my head, recalling the memory of what John said to me that morning, “He even---” I stop speaking as I notice Sam’s whole body stiffen. 

“Fucking asshole, that  _ fucking asshole! _ ” He yells, bringing attention to us once again. His face reddens, and his breathing grows heavy, nostrils flaring. His jaw clenches, and he slams a fist on the table, his head shaking as he gets up, pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. 

My eyes widen at his reaction, and when he glances back at me, his features soften as he sits back down. “Ella, he never told me any of that. He lied to you, Ella. Hell, lied to me too. He never told me that you came to the motel. He told me that you didn’t want to see me again, and I couldn’t stay here for another minute knowing that.” 

“I don’t understand,” I can't believe what I’m hearing, "Why? Why would John lie to me? To you?" 

“I don’t know. If I could ask him, I would.” Sam drags a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

How many lies had he been told? How many had I been told? John, my parents, they all lied to us. Maybe they were doing what they thought was best. But each one of them had a part to play in where Sam and I stood. But even then, he still chose to leave--alone.

“I just need to know one thing from you, Sam,” I state, breaking the silence between us. “One day, I‘m gonna have to tell Cordy the truth.” I feel the tears welling, and do my best to keep them at bay. “About who she is, about who we are, and I want to be able to tell her that we weren’t just two teenagers acting purely on hormones. I was in love with you, Sam. I wanted you more than anything, and maybe you didn’t feel the same—" I finally break, tears flowing freely from me.

Sam moves from across the table to sit down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I lean into his side, relishing in the comfort of his strength and familiar scent. He places a kiss on my forehead, and I realize that he needs this just as much as I do.

“I wanted you, Ella,” he speaks softly, “and even though she wasn’t planned, I wanted our baby. She’s you and me, and I thought about both of you all the time. That first year was so hard; I was a freaking mess. Christmas was really bad, I knew by then she would’ve been born, I nearly drank myself to death. I was spiraling, and I wanted to reach out to you, just to say sorry, but I was a coward. I wondered what we would’ve named her, who’d she look like.” I pull away from him slowly, “You have no idea how much I wanted the both of you with me. You were the first person I loved, and I still,” he lifts my chin, bringing his lips to mine, placing a soft kiss against them, “love you, Ella.”

Internally, I’m rejoicing. I knew there were still many things we needed to discuss, things I needed to tell him, but for this moment, everything is perfect. He’s back, and he still had feelings for me. Deep down, I know this won’t last long, he’s a hunter, they never stay anywhere long, but I banish that voice to the back of my mind, and let myself get lost in this moment with Sam.

“November 17,” I say, breaking away from him.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“She was born on November 17, almost exactly one year after we met. She was nearly three weeks early. She was this tiny little thing, and the moment I laid my eyes on her, all I could see was you. Your eyes, your lips, your nose,” I laugh as he makes a face. 

“She looks like you, Ella, more than you probably realize. Cordelia _ Mary _ ?” A smile forms on his lips. “You remembered my mother’s name.”

“After I decided to keep her, I wanted her to have a name for you. I thought that even if you weren’t going to be around, she could have a part of you with her, even if she didn’t know it. And as angry as I was with you, I really wanted to give her your last name, but it just wasn’t going to happen. My parents still wanted me to give her away, but—” I think back to the day she was born. “They came to see us after she was born, and immediately became enamored with her. They told me I could come back home with her on the condition that they would be raising her, not me.”

“You could have done it, you know, instead of lying to everyone.”

“We all agreed that it would be for the best,” I respond weakly, shrugging my shoulders. “It seemed like a small concession. Dad still wanted me to finish college and figured it would be easier for everyone if we just pretended like she wasn’t mine. It wasn’t too bad at first. At home, we didn’t have to pretend; I was her mom. I was the one that took care of her, played with her, taught her. But as she got older and started learning more, I had to stop, even at home. It was really hard; it still is sometimes.”

“Everyone just believed she was your sister?” He asks, stunned. “That you left for all that time, and you conveniently came back when your ‘sister’ was born?” He clearly doesn’t like that I am lying to everyone about Cordy.

“Mom told anyone who asked that I was off volunteering out of state.” I shake my head at the thought. “Very  _ Bible Belt _ of her, right? Couldn’t let her unmarried pregnant teenager just walk around, not how ‘good families’ act,” I scoff. “No one, besides our parents, knew I was pregnant. I didn’t tell anyone, not that I had the chance. Mom and dad shipped me off to South Dakota as soon as they could. For five months, I lived with my ridiculously religious cousin, and I only had contact with a handful of people. After we came home, I barely left the house. I focused all of my attention on Cordy.”

“I know, but--”

“People will believe what they want to believe. And I was doing what I thought was best for  _ my _ daughter. You don’t get to show up eleven years later and be mad about the decisions I’ve made for her.” I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through.”

“I know, ‘m sorry.” He takes the opportunity to place another chaste kiss on my lips, calming me. “I just wish I could have been there.”

“Sam, there’s nothing you can do about it now, I gave you a chance, and you didn’t take it.”

“Ella, I told you, I wanted to take you—" he huffs, voice laced with frustration. “If I’d known that you were keeping her and still wanted me, I would’ve taken you with me, just like I promised.”

“Really?”

“Seriously, Ella, if I had known, I would have been there every goddamn day.” He gives me a real kiss this time, and it takes my breath away.

His hands run through my hair, and with every deep kiss, he places another smaller one on my lips. Even after all these years, he still makes me feel like we are the only two people in the world. A wolf-whistle from somewhere across the park breaks us apart, and Sam smirks. I lean my forehead against Sam’s chest and silently take in everything I’ve learned over the past hour. I still have questions, I’m still angry, but for this moment, I am content being back in his arms. The steady beat of his heart helps soothe me as does the warmth of his hands now wrapped around mine.

“How long will you be in town?” I ask, breaking into the silence, even though I don’t want to know the answer.

“Not sure,” he sighs. “Cordelia’s right, you know, there  _ was _ something hunting kids at her school. She’s a smart girl.” I can’t help but laugh as he uses her full name. “What?” he asks, a smile forming on his face.

“No one calls her ‘Cordelia.’”

“Where have I heard that name before?” he says, peppering kisses on my face, “Not after  _ Buffy _ , right?”

“No. A book I was reading while I was pregnant. The name just kinda stuck with me.”

“You call her Cordy, right? And your parents?”

“Delia,” I laugh. “She’s a girl of many names.”

“Okay, so what can I call her?” he asks, becoming slightly more serious. “When I meet her, I don’t—"

“Sam,” I say, stopping him. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“I want to know her Ella; she’s my daughter,” I can hear his voice change from soft to demanding, “I want her to know me, know Dean. I have a  _ right _ to know her.”

“No, Sam," I push his arm away from me and stand up from the table. "She’s  _ my _ daughter. Her last name isn’t  _ Winchester _ . You’ve only seen her one day of her life, and now you think she belongs to you?” I see pain and anger flash in his eyes as he stands. "I'm not going to let you stroll back into her life just to walk out of it again in a few days." I turn away, frustrated and hurt, and make my way back to my car.

“Ella—” I hear him protest from a few feet behind me, “Ella, wait, I just meant—”

I turn to face him, "You pursue this, and I  _ swear _ Sam, I'll leave and make sure you never see either of us again. You aren't the only one who knows how to disappear." I threaten him. I turn around, walking away from him again, knowing he is staying close. Oranges and pinks fill the sky as we leave the park, having been there for hours.

“El—Ella, come back,” Sam shouts from behind me. “Please El/N, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want—”

There’s a loud squeal of tires behind us, followed by a loud bang and the grind of metal against metal. I freeze, everything around blurring into a haze. The terrifying sounds propel my mind back to the night of the attack, unable to breathe as the beast comes charging towards me, sharp claws and amber eyes are all I can see. The sound of a gun going off and Sam standing in front of me. My fingers brush over the faded scar on my forearm, a phantom pain lingering there. I fall to my knees, body trembling, my vision grows hazy before I pass out. 

The wail of sirens greets me as I come to, warm hazel eyes stare down at me, specs of green and blue highlighted by concern. Sam has one hand lying gently in the center of my chest, as he presses one of my hands against his, “...breathe, baby.” 

I mimic his actions, slowly breathing in and out as I gaze into his eyes. I push myself up to a seated position with Sam’s assistance as my breathing returns to normal. His attention is pulled to the street as another siren grows louder. People from the park have disappeared, a crowd gathering at the side of the road. He helps me to my feet, his arm around me, keeping me steady as we walk towards the source of the commotion, a car accident. My training kicks in, instincts urging me to run over and offer any kind of help that I can. As we get closer to the scene, a familiar wailing fills my ears, causing my skin to prickle.  _ I know that cry. _ I pry myself away from Sam, shoving my way through the throng of people. I gasp in horror at the sight in front of me, two cars, one nearly folded in half, the other’s front end destroyed. 

“Ella—hey, are you okay?” Sam asks from behind me. I feel the blood draining from my face as he wraps a protective arm around me, searching my face. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

My heart’s in my throat, and I can barely get the words out, “It’s Cordy.” His eyebrows furrow,  _ he doesn’t understand. _ Another cry comes from the U-shaped car, I take a deep breath as I move toward the destroyed vehicle, Sam tightly gripping my shoulder as he moves with me. “ _ It’s Cordy.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!


	6. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Sam grow closer when he decides to stay in Weldon.
> 
> Mild Smut ahead!

**December 2002**

_Sam POV_

In the days after the attack, I spend most of my free time with Ella, going over to her house as often as I can. I’m the one that he’s the most comfortable with, and Dad wants me to make sure that she will not expose us or what we do. Dad and Dean hunt the rest of the werewolves, taking the pack out quickly on their own. Even though it only took a little over a week, it’s the longest we’ve been in one place in months.

“I’m staying,” I say while Dean loads the Impala. Dad pauses and shakes his head. He’s upset; I can see the anger simmering in his eyes as his jaw ticks. I need to convince dad to let me continue the school year in Weldon. I’m already behind; I should’ve graduated last May. Stanford is my way out, and I will need an actual transcript and diploma to apply. I can’t tell dad or Dean about how I feel though, both of them would be pissed.

“It’s only until the end of the school year,” I do my best not to sound like a whiny little kid.

“No.”

“That’s it? Just ‘no’?” I say as I move closer to him. “No discussion? You don’t even know why--”

“I know _exactly_ why you want to stay here.” He snaps, throwing his bag on the bed. “You’ve bonded with Ellie. I understand that, but I’m not gonna let you hang around here just for some piece of ass.”

“Don’t,” I warn, taking another step forward. “Don’t talk about Ella like that. Me wanting to stay has nothing to do with her.” I don’t want to admit it, but Dean’s right, I’m getting too close to her, and though I hate that her parents told her she can’t contact me, a small part of me knows it’s for the best. I push the thoughts of Ella out of my head and glare at dad. “Leave her out of it.”

“ _Fine._ But we’ve talked about this before; when we stay in one place, we draw attention to ourselves. We’ve been here too long already. People are starting to ask questions.”

I take a few steps backward, trying to calm myself. _Focus Sam. Stanford is the goal_. Choosing my words carefully, I reply, “Dad. I just want to be in one school long enough to graduate, to get to know people.”

“Does that include Ellie?”

” _Ellie_ has nothing to do with it. I told you I want to stay here so I can get my diploma. Is that really too much to ask?” Dad grumbles as he turns away and starts pulling clothes out of the dresser, furiously shoving them into his duffle. “I just want to be a normal high school student. I don’t ever ask to stay anywhere, but I want to stay here. I like it here, and it’s only until the end of the school year.”

“We both know that isn’t true’” he argues, turning around to face me. “This is about Ellie. Sam, she’s a young girl, the only survivor of that pack’s attacks, and the last thing she needs is you trying to get into her pants.”

“So what? I can’t be friends with her? You’re going to dictate that?” I take a step towards him, my jaw clenching.

“ _Don’t.”_ He grits his teeth and steps forward, bringing his face only a few inches away from mine. Dean enters the room, and quickly steps up beside us, ready to pull us apart if needed. Dad huffs, and his jaw ticks. “You’re coming with us, and that’s final.”

“I’m staying.” Rage bubbles inside me. I’m so tired of his overbearing attitude.

“You’re coming,” he states, “even if I have to tie your ass to the back seat of the truck.”

“No.” I square my shoulders and straighten to my full height, never realizing until now how much I tower over him. I feel Dean’s hands on my shoulder, pushing us apart.

“Okay, that’s enough! Back off, both of you.” Dad remains stoic, face awash in anger, as Dean walks me to the other side of the room.

Dean keeps a hand on my chest as he looks over his shoulder to dad. Scrubbing a hand down his face, dad returns to the dresser and finishes packing up his belongings. The red slowly drains from his face, and I can feel my body begin to relax as we both cool down. I look at Dean and nod, letting him know I’m all right. He drops his hand and steps aside.

“Dad.” I take a deep breath, “All I want to do is be a normal high school student, even if it’s just for a few months.” That’s not entirely false. “Please.”

“You’re a grown man,” he remarks, jamming a shirt into his duffle. “You want to stay? I can’t stop you. But your brother and I are leaving; we still have work to do. Dean’s not gonna be here to bail your ass out of any trouble you get into.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine,” dad grudgingly agrees. “I mean it, Sam. If you’re honestly staying here for school, then fine, but if it’s for the girl, it will only make it that much harder when you come back on the road with us. You need to stay away from her.”

“Stay away from who?” Dean asks, standing in the middle of the room, looking over to me. "Ellie?” He smirks.

“Shut up,” I say, feeling the heat pooling in my cheeks. “I just want to graduate in May.”

“We’re gonna leave him by himself?” Dean looks at dad, shocked. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Sammy’s eighteen.” Dad says sharply, “Wants to show us he can handle being alone. School is your focus, not Ellie. Am I making myself clear?”

I mumble, “yes, sir,” nodding my head.

Dean and dad finish packing up and then leave for a case that Bobby sent Dad a lead on. Dad let me know that one of them will check in with me in a few days. He paid for the room through the next two weeks; after that, I’m ‘ _on my own_.’ I have to find a way to make money, there’s only so many bars in the area; I know hustling will only get me so far. I’ll have to find a real job somewhere in town.

It’s only been two days, but I love having my freedom. Dad isn’t around barking orders, and I don't have to deal with Dean being an ass. I get to be a high-school student for once, not a hunter. I spend the entire first day taking placement tests, so many gaps in my education. I’m worried that they won't allow me to take the appropriate courses to graduate.

As much as I hate to admit it, Dad is right about Ella, and I try to keep my promise and stay away from her. _She’s sixteen._ I keep telling myself, _sixteen._ I try not to think about her, but when I walk into my first class, I spot her a few rows back, nose buried in a book.

“Everyone, this is Sam Winchester,” the teacher, Mrs. Collier, announces. “He'll be joining us for the rest of the year.” She turns to me and smiles, “Any open seat is yours, Sam. Feel free to ask those around you if you need help with the material.”

“Ella,” I whisper, taking a seat next to her, “what are you doing here?”

“Sam,” she smiles brightly. “I’m in this class.”

“You know this is _English Four_? You know, for seniors?”

“Um, yeah, I’m a senior.” She laughs, “I thought I told you that, after--” she pauses when another student accidentally knocks their textbook to the floor, causing a loud bang to echo through the room.

Ella’s pupils dilate, and the color drains from her face. I hear her quietly counting as she takes slow, deep breaths. _Crap, she's having a panic attack._ I reach for her trembling hand as she quickly scans the room. _She doesn’t want anyone to notice_.

“Eliza?” Mrs. Collier whispers as she appears in front of us. She can see what's happening, and she crouches down, leveling herself with Ella. “Do you need to step out for a moment?”

Ella starts to shake her head but then reluctantly nods. I help her up and grab her bag, walking us out calmly. Standing in the hallway, I graze my thumb gently against the back of her hand, watching as her breathing settles and her cheeks pink up.

“Sorry,” she murmurs.

“It’s okay, Ella,” I smile at her gently. “Do you want me to take you to the nurse?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head as rose tints fill her soft face. “I’ll be okay. There’s some medicine in the side pocket,” she points to her bag, “can you get it for me, please?”

I reach into her bag and find a prescription bottle labeled _sertraline,_ handing it to her. I notice a bench down the hallway, and I lead her to it, my arm settling on her waist to keep her steady. I stay with her for the rest of the class period. By the time the bell rings, she’s calmed down. I pull out my class schedule to see where I need to go next. Glancing at the paper in my hands, Ella notes that we have several classes together. She stays close to me as we walk to our next class. I notice that she doesn’t interact much with the other students, only speaking to five or six of them.

“So, what happened to _Campbell?_ ” Ella asks as we walk into the cafeteria later that day. The question has probably been in the back of her mind since Mrs. Collier introduced me. “You told me your name is Sam _Campbell,_ not _Winchester._ ”

“We use it sometimes when we're working.” I explain, “It’s my mom’s maiden name. It helps keep her close, she uh, she died when I was a baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she frowns and reaches over to squeeze my hand, “I can’t imagine.”

“It was a long time ago,” I say, and for a moment, I wonder what it would be like if she was still alive, how different our lives would be. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and give Ella a tight-lipped smile. “It’s part of the reason we work. To try and stop things like that from happening to other families.”

“So, _Winchester_? I like that better, seems to suit you more,” she says, guiding me to a table. “So your dad and brother, they just left you here?” she asks as we sit down.

“They didn’t ‘just leave’ me,” I laugh. “I told dad that I wanted to stay here so that I could graduate on time. I should’ve last May. Every time there’s a new case, that means a new school, and sometimes we’re only there for a week or two so dad wouldn’t even register me. So, of course, I got behind. Dean told me just to drop out and get my GED, but I want a real diploma.” I rake my hands through my hair. “Wanna get that and go to college, get out from my dad and brother’s shadow.”

“I get it,” Ella smiles, “I mean, mom and dad basically forced me to take extra classes so that I can graduate early and go straight to college. I haven’t told them that I’m gonna take a year off. I just—I want some freedom from them, you know?”

“Exactly!” I exclaim, finding comfort in someone else understanding the need to get away.

We grow closer as the semester progresses, and my feelings continue to grow for her as well. Ella has become my best friend, making me laugh so hard sometimes that I can’t breathe, and I try as often as I can to return the favor. Every day we sit together at lunch. Sometimes doing homework, sometimes Ella asks questions about _The Family Business_ , and sometimes we just sit in silence, enjoying the other’s company. I steal glances at her whenever I think she’s not looking, and I notice her doing the same.

Dad pulls me into a hunt over the Christmas break. Our fight still lingers between us, but we manage to be civil to each other. Dean does his best to keep the peace, as always, and we only get into it the night before I head back to Weldon.

It’s a long, anger-filled drive back to the motel, but once I put some distance between dad and me, I start to relax. I fall back into my routine easily as the semester begins. Being around Ella grounds me and helps me focus on the bigger picture; Stanford.

“Sam?” Ella asks, pulling my attention away from the calculus notes that I’ve been studying rigorously. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, and her face is flushed; whatever she’s about to say, she’s psyching herself up for it. My eyebrows furrow as she exhales deeply before speaking. “Are you _ever_ going to ask me out?”

“I...What?” her question prompts dad’s voice in my head, ‘ _too young. She’s too young for you.’_

“Are you ever going to ask me out?” she repeats more pointedly. “Or do you not like me like that?”

“Ella, you have no idea, I want to… but—” I look away from her, unsure how to respond. She’s trying to make it clear that she has the same feelings I do, but I don’t want to tell her how much I want her, only to turn around and tell her that we can’t be together. At least not until she’s older. ‘ _You’re legally an adult, and she’s only sixteen.’_

“But?” she looks at me curiously.

“I can’t. You’re only _sixteen_ , Ella—” I don’t want to reject her, but I can’t risk my future, everything I have been working towards, “I like you, I _really_ do, but sixteen…”

“ _Seventeen,_ ” she interrupts, bringing her finger to my lips to stop my rambling. “I turned seventeen a few weeks ago. There’s nothing _wrong_ with an eighteen-year-old dating a seventeen—”

Before she can finish her sentence, I press my lips against hers, kissing her eagerly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” I whisper as I break the kiss without pulling away from her, resting my forehead gently against hers. Her lips ghost across mine, and I can feel her smile against me.

She looks into my eyes, a soft giggle leaving her, “I’ve wanted you to do that for ages.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it,” I smile as I bring my lips back to hers, “promise.”

After that first kiss, Ella and I become nearly inseparable. We spend every moment that we can together. We were dating secretly for a few weeks since Ella’s parents aren’t keen on her doing anything that might jeopardize her future. I know if I ever want to take her on a proper date, I will have to officially meet her parents. I’d seen them several times while visiting Ella after the attack and made small talk with them, but I know her dad will want to size me up, make sure that I am a _respectable_ person.

“Just be yourself, Sam,” she says as we walk up to her house, “they’ll love you.”

“ _Love me?_ They think I’m a creep, Ella. You remember how they acted towards me that night. I don’t think they’re gonna accept that we want to be together,” I sigh.

“Okay, so they may not allow us to ‘officially’ date, but they can’t stop me from seeing you. And if they try,” Ella pulls me close, whispering in my ear, “maybe we’ll just have to sneak around.” She places a kiss on my cheek. “Who knows, might make things more _exciting_.” She winks as she steps away, and I feel my face flush.

“Ella… you’re killing me,” I chuckle before taking her hand in mine. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

Ella’s parents, her father, in particular, gives me the third degree, drilling for all sorts of information. They ask about dad, why he had left, while I stayed in town. I explain that dad travels a lot for work, and I chose to stay to complete the school year. I tell them he will be coming back frequently to check on me. The truth is, he will probably only come back once a month; if it all. There’s a lingering question; I can see it written all over his face. Ella’s dad wants to know what really happened the night Ella was attacked. He waits until Ella and her mother leave the room to ask it. I assure him that I happened to be in the right place at the right time. He accepts my answer hesitantly, changing the subject when Ella comes back into the room. After about 40 minutes of intense questioning, Ella’s parents reluctantly give me their permission to date Ella.

For our first proper date, I take Ella to _Joe’s_. Not only is it one of the only restaurants in Weldon that I enjoy, but I feel it’s fitting, considering it’s where we first met.

We’re reminiscing about that day as we walk into the restaurant. “I cannot believe Dean thought any of those lines would work!” she laughs as she takes me by the hand, guiding me to a booth in the corner, she calls it _her spot_. “I mean, honestly, who actually falls for that?”

“You’d be surprised,” I shake my head, laughing, “I’ve seen him get farther with worse.”

After leaving the restaurant, we spend the next hour walking through what Ella calls downtown. She explains that it’s the “hub” of Weldon, but I don’t think it qualifies as a hub with so few businesses here. The movie theater only has four screens and is behind on any current movies, displaying _Red Dragon_ and _The Ring_ as new releases. _Didn’t those come out in October?_ There is a bowling alley, but on the weekends, all the university students flock there as it’s one of the only forms of entertainment.

We walk down Main Street, I opted not to drive, even though I was able to buy a used sedan with the money I’d earned from my job at the grocery store. I didn’t want Ella’s parents to think that we would go “parking”. Her father had even mentioned explicitly in our discussion that it wasn’t allowed.

As we turn down the street, I notice a change in Ella’s demeanor, I’ve spent enough time with her to realize that it’s the start of a panic attack. I hesitate for a moment, confused. It’s usually loud noises that trigger her, and right now, the neighborhood is relatively quiet. I look around and then notice the street sign-Franklin. _Shit._ This is the street where she was attacked.

“Hey, Ella, you’re okay.” I pull her against me, rubbing her back as her breathing gets heavier. “You’re safe.”

“It’s just—what if—”

“It’s dead,” I say firmly. “The entire pack is gone. Remember?”

“But what about--” She knew what was out there, and there is nothing I can do to ease that burden. “What if something else comes after me?”

“I’ll protect you.”

“You promise?” Her body relaxes against me.

I lift her chin so that I can look into her eyes. “As long as I’m here, you’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I promise, leaning down to kiss her.

* * *

_Ella POV_

The first month of dating Sam was hard, I was still having panic attacks and feared for my safety now that I knew that there were _things_ out there. Sam was always there to reassure me that he would protect me from anything that may hurt me. I feel safe with him, and though mom and dad didn’t approve, I still call him in the middle of the night when memories rear their ugly head.

I’m falling for Sam, and as much as we are trying to take it slow, I can’t stop the feelings that are growing for him. When the week of Valentine’s comes around, Mom and dad decide that they will take a mini-vacation for the holiday weekend. With them gone, I can spend the entire weekend with Sam without having to explain my absence. As cliché as it is, I decide that Valentine’s will be _the night_ with Sam.

The doorbell startles me as I give myself a final look in the mirror. I check the side pocket of my purse, three foil wrappers nestled together. _Thank you, Jana._ I don’t know what Sam has planned for us tonight, but he told me to “dress up”.

“Wow.” He says as I open the door. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I say, lifting to my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

“Nope.” He grins, popping the p. He looks around for a moment, waiting for something. “Your dad isn’t gonna shake me down first?”

“They’re out of town,” I smirk. “Gone for the whole weekend.”

The sun is setting when we pull away from my house. I wasn’t sure why Sam wanted to leave so early, but it’s becoming more apparent as we drive past the town limits. Half an hour later, Sam pulls up to _The Tavern_. A valet meets us at the entrance, and I know I’m out of my element. We don’t have restaurants like this in Weldon, and there’s no way Sam can afford for us to be here.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says after I voice my concern. “Order whatever you want.”

We’re half-way through our appetizer when Sam tells me that he’s applied to Stanford on early acceptance. I tell him I’m happy for him, even though it kills me to think of him going away. I know he’s not going to stick around here forever, but I thought we would have longer.

“I don’t even know if I’ll get accepted,” he says doubtfully. “My transcript is so messed up. The only thing I have going for me is that I took the SATs last year.”

“ _Sam._ You’re smart. So what if your application isn’t perfect? They have to see that you still managed to keep your grades up even with the constant moving. That’s gotta count for something.” I know how much it means to him to get into Stanford. “You’re gonna get in.” I smile, but he can read me like an open book; he knows what I’m really worried about.

“We can make it work, Ella. And it’s not like we have to worry about it today. It’s gonna be at least six weeks before I know anything. And I wouldn’t have to be there until June. We would still have a couple of weeks after graduation to figure it out.”

We spend the rest of the dinner talking about how we can make a long-distance relationship work. Sam suggests that I apply to UC Berkeley. “It’s only an hour away from Stanford. We’d still get to see each other every week,” he urges. I entertain the idea before realizing that mom and dad would never let me apply to a school so far away.

“You get to decide where we go next.” He says as we pull away from the restaurant. “I picked the restaurant; you choose the entertainment.”

I can’t help the barrage of images of Sam positioned in some very entertaining ways. _Maybe spend less time around Jana, Ellie._ I shake the thoughts from my head, clearing my throat.

“I want to stay with you tonight,” I say, slowly rubbing my hand up and down his thigh. He groans loudly, “at your place.” He sends me a questioning look. “Nosy neighbors,” I laugh slightly.

I’m a bit caught off guard when we pull up in front of the motel. He offers a sympathetic smile as he watches me. I know that the way his family makes money is sketchy at best, but I can’t imagine only ever living in motels.

“I thought you only stayed in motels while you were working,” I remark as he parks the car. “Your dad didn’t want you to have something more...” I struggle to find the right word, “permanent?”

“ _Permanent_ is not in John Winchester’s vocabulary.” Embarrassment washes over his face. “I’m sorry. If you want me to take you home--” I cut him off, leaning in to press my lips against his.

I pull back, noticing the smirk on his face as he kisses me back. His hand slides into my hair, softly gripping at the loose curls. I can feel his tongue at the base of my mouth, waiting for access. We’re both panting as we briefly pull away from each other. He reaches out, his thumb gently caressing my cheeks as he leans in, planting soft kisses on my neck and jaw, before placing a more desperate one on my lips. I moan into his mouth as his arm slides up my side, gripping at my waist. My eyes open to meet liquid pools of green and blue studying my own. “I _want_ to be here with you.”

I move closer to him, letting out a small yelp when I accidentally honk the horn while trying to climb into his lap, causing a snort to leave him. It isn’t a sound I’ve ever heard him make before, which causes me to devolve into a laughing fit. “Way to ruin the moment, Sam.” I tease, leaning into his side. Once we’ve both settled down, he reaches behind me, palm resting on the back of my neck as he brings my face closer to his, teeth clicking when our mouths meet.

“You wanna try that again?” He asks, pushing the bench back as far as it can go. I mimic his bitch face, throwing it back at him, unable to hold it for long, before grinning slyly and throwing my leg over his thigh. My head hits the roof of the car before our foreheads collide. “I think we should get out of the car,” he laughs, “before one of us gets seriously hurt.”

I nod, and he grabs the door handle, a gust of cold air meeting us. We stumble out of the car, and I adjust my dress as Sam tries to conceal his growing bulge. Sam fiddles with the keys, guiding me towards his motel room. He stops before he unlocks the door, illuminated by the dim parking lot lights, his face is flushed, and his lips are slightly swollen. I’m sure if I looked into a mirror, I would see the same image. “You’re sure?” He asks, and I nod eagerly, biting my lip. “Because if you’re not, we can wait. I just--I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you. That you want to do it because I want to. Not that I don’t want to--”

“Sam,” I sigh playfully, “You’re rambling.” I bring my hands around the back of his neck, “You’ve barely even talked about it. I told you last week; I’m ready. I want you to be my first _._ ” I pull him close so that I can kiss him again, “I love you.”

He opens the door, allowing me to step inside first. A wave of nerves flow through me; we’ve never been alone like this before. The sound of the door closing causes me to jump, and Sam is quickly behind me. He grabs at the hem of my dress, pulling it up a few inches. He slides his hand upwards, nibbling at my neck as a low growl leaves his throat. Panic courses through me, and I hear Jana’s voice in my head. _“If you don’t like something, tell him.”_

“Sam?” I whimper, trying to find my voice. He hums, grabbing tightly at my thigh. “ _Sam_ ,” I try to say with more conviction. He growls again, moving his hand further up my dress. I can feel my heart beating faster and faster. His free hand runs up my arm, touching the fading scar on my forearm, and it sends me into a spiral. “Stop!”

He jumps back immediately, lifting his hands away from me and takes in my appearance as I turn to face him. Tears are brimming in my eyes, and I slowly count as I inhale deeply, pacing around the room and gently rub the scar. He doesn’t move. For the first time since I’ve met him, he’s the one who’s frozen. I can see the guilt play on his face, and he moves even further away.

“Babe, I’m sorry.” He looks down at the carpet; his voice laced with remorse. “I didn’t--”

“I just-- I need a minute,” I say, walking towards the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me. I grab a hand towel and run it under some cold water, gently dabbing at my face. _Sam’s not gonna hurt you._

It takes me a few minutes, but I’m able to calm myself down enough to go back out to see Sam. He’s sitting on one of the beds, slumped over, fidgeting with his hands, he looks up but doesn’t move as I re-enter the room. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-- I should’ve known better.”

“It’s okay,” I say, sitting down next to him, grabbing his hand.

“No, it’s not. I--I know what triggers you. If you want to go, I understand.”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No, Ella, of course not. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Sam remains still as I lean in, lifting his chin so that I can kiss him. He waits a moment before kissing me back, softly running his hand down my arm. “You sure?” He asks, pulling away. I gingerly move my leg over his, finally able to get myself into his lap. His nose rubs against mine as he pulls me closer to him. I don’t know how long we sit there holding each other, but when Sam’s hand wanders back down my leg, I don’t stop him.

I giggle as he fiddles with the zipper of my dress, huffing as it gets stuck a few inches down. I bring my hands to his chest, hesitating for a moment as I start undoing the buttons of his shirt. I push it off his shoulders, and it catches on his biceps as his arms are still around me. With an annoyed grunt, he releases me and shakes the fabric down his arms, cursing under his breath, until it falls to the bed.

An exasperated sigh leaves him as he tosses the shirt onto the floor, returning his hands to my back. He grunts, unable to get the zipper down any further, “I’m gonna rip this dress off of you,” he laughs. “Turn around,” he instructs.

I struggle to get out of his lap, realizing that there’s no graceful way to do it. I trip over myself as I stand up, pulling my hair away to expose the back of my dress. It takes another minute, but he finally frees me from the offending garment and kisses my shoulders gently. He turns me around to face him, his lips brush against mine as he reaches around to unclasp my bra. Giggles leave me as he sighs, clearly having trouble with the clasp. Sam turns me around again, finally able to rid me of my bra.

We move towards the bed, and I land with a small bounce as I let Sam tower over me. He leans down, moving his arms to either side of my body, caging me in.

“Ella, I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay?” Sam hooks his fingers into my panties. I lift my hips when he tugs at the material, allowing him to easily pull them from my body, leaving me entirely exposed to him. His fingers caress the skin of my legs as he moves back up the bed.

The goosebumps left in their wake make me giggle, and when he grasps my hips, thumbs pressing into the juncture of my hip and thigh, nervous laughter escapes my lips. Sam laughs softly in response, one hand slowly moving toward my heated core.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers as he slowly rubs his hand against me. With his free hand, he opens the drawer of the nightstand, pulls out a small bottle, and shows it to me. My eyes go wide, and he smiles reassuringly. “It’ll help.” He flips the cap and removes his hand from me to drizzle some of the clear liquid over his fingers. Sam places the bottle on the nightstand and then catches my gaze, “Ready?”

I inhale deeply, then smile hesitantly. I can barely form a thought when he slips a finger into me, twisting gently to ease his way. It feels strange but pleasant at the same time.

“ _Sam_.” He immediately stops, silently checking in with me. He positions himself above me when I nod and watches me closely as he adds another finger. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He continues to pump his fingers slowly into me. “I want you to cum Ella.”

Sam’s fingers curl to rub over the rough patch inside, and my hips jerk in reflex. I can feel heat pooling low in my belly, and my walls tighten around his fingers. I grasp his shoulder and let out a moan.

“That’s it. You’re getting close, aren’t you.” He picks up his pace, pushing in harder. I can only whine in response as the fingers of his free hand knead my breast. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Such a good girl. Now, cum for me.”

“F-fuck… _Sam_ …” I whimper as he finally takes me over the edge, “ _Sam!”_

“You okay?” He smiles, leaning down to kiss me again. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Fuck. Yes.” I laugh as I come down from my high. “That was amazing.”

Pushing off the bed, he stands. I instinctively bring my hands up to cover myself, and Sam stops me. He begins to remove his clothes, and I stare at him appreciatively. My stomach is doing somersaults; this is actually going to happen. He’s completely naked in front of me, and for a moment, I get another case of the giggles.

“What?” he smiles as he settles between my legs. I shake my head, my laughter quickly replaced by moans as he kisses up my body, stopping to suckle at my breast.

He reaches into the drawer of the nightstand again, this time pulling out a foil wrapper. He struggles to get it open until he brings it to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth.

“Are you sure?” he asks as he sheaths himself, nestling back between my legs.

“Yes.”

* * *

The room is dark when Sam collapses by my side, silent save for our heavy breathing. Sam moves my hair away from my face, keeping his other hand on my thigh, rubbing it gently. There’s a dull ache between my legs, but I don’t mind it. Neither of us moves, I want to stay in this moment with Sam forever. I feel the bed dip, and the warmth of his body disappears, the bright light of the bathroom illuminates Sam’s face and body. I can see the hickey I left on his neck. Even without looking, I know he’s littered my body with marks in return. He returns with a wet washcloth, placing it gently between my legs, he cleans me up before doing the same to himself. He tosses the cloth onto the floor of the bathroom and turns the light off before returning to bed. “How are you doin’?” He asks, wrapping his arms around me.

“Mm-hmm,” I nod, “’ M good.”

Sam leans forward and places a soft kiss on my forehead. He holds me tight against him, as I rest my head on his firm chest, his steady heartbeat lulling me to sleep. His fingers slide gently up and down my back, and I hear him whisper, _‘I love you, too’_ as I drift off to sleep.

The next thing I know is that a booming voice is waking me.

“WHAT IN THE _HELL_ IS GOING ON HERE?”John is in the doorway of the room, eyes wide and face crimson. I frantically bring the sheets up to my neck, trying to protect what little modesty I can. I turn my face to meet Sam’s, watching as a range of emotions from embarrassment to panic play on his face.

“D-dad,” Sam struggles, trying to think of an explanation. I’m terrified, and I feel my whole body tensing, “This isn’t--"

 _“Don’t.”_ John keeps his eyes focused on Sam. “This is _exactly_ what it looks like. Get dressed,” he orders, grabbing the discarded clothes off the floor, throwing them into our laps. “Ellie, you’re going home.” Sam opens his mouth to speak, but John cuts him off. “I swear to God if you say another fuckin’ word,” John threatens as he exits the room. "Two minutes," he barks, slamming the door behind him.

We roll off the bed and stand on opposite sides, quickly getting dressed. Sam mutters under his breath, ‘ _not a kid, can’t tell me what to do.’_ He pulls on his shirt, and his eyes fall on me. The shock and embarrassment of getting caught by John has me practically in tears. Sam is by my side in a second; his long arms enveloping me in a hug.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, pulling me tight against him. I nod, unsure of what to say. He cups my face gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss against my lips. “I love you.” His lips graze mine for a moment, but the door swings open and Sam quickly steps away from me. John’s nostrils flare and his jaw ticks I tuck my chin, unable to look the older Winchester in the eyes.

“Ellie, wait outside while I have a word with my son,” he says harshly. I take a quick peek at him through my lashes and see him glare at Sam, chest puffed, and hands balled into fists. Everything I knew about him from Sam made him seem like a control freak, but the night they came into Joe’s that first time, and after the attack, all I saw was a strict but caring person. The man standing in the doorway is not the John I met; _this_ is the John that Sam has been telling me about. John catches my eye and softens his voice. “Outside, Ellie, please.”

“Yes, sir,” I look down at the floor, “Bye, Sam,” I say, gently closing the door behind me.

“Goddammit, son!” John roars. I might as well still be in the room with them. “I knew this was gonna happen! You just wanted to stick around this piece of shit town so that you could get your dick wet. What do you think will happen when her parents find out?" He pauses, I can hear Sam's voice, but can't quite make out anything he's saying. "This is the fucking _Bible Belt_ , and you’re out of your mind if you don’t think they’ll throw your ass in jail!”

“Dad—” Sam raises his voice, and I can hear his own anger coming to a head.

“You are playing a dangerous game with this girl, Sam. Tell me, what happens when you come back on the road with your brother and me in a few months?" John makes no effort to keep his voice down.

I can hear the hit from outside the room, “Yes, you are. You, me, and your brother are gonna find that thing that killed your mother. And _we_ are going to destroy it. It’s the least you can do.”

“You can’t make me do anything.” Sam’s voice is hard.

“You bet your ass I can. I will yank your ass right out of this crap town and take you to Bobby’s. Day after graduation, you’re coming back on the road, that’s that, am I making myself clear?”

The door swings open, and I peek inside the room. John is standing just inside the entrance, Sam only inches away from him. There’s a mark starting to form on Sam’s face; his expression is hard, and his hands are balled into fists. He throws a punch at the wall, shouting, "Fuck!" I’ve never seen this side of him before, and it frightens me a little. John doesn’t even flinch. Sam’s face immediately softens when he catches sight of me and offers a tight-lipped smile.

“Let’s go, Ellie,” John says as he exits the room and heads toward a large truck. I cower behind him, wondering if he is going to tell mom and dad about what he saw.

The ride back to my house is silent; the only time I speak is to give him directions to my home. As soon as John pulls in the driveway, I reach for the door handle, wanting to escape his overbearing presence as quickly as possible. I get that John wants his sons with him, but I don’t understand why he’s so adamant about not wanting me and Sam to be together.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re a nice girl, Ellie,” John says, stopping me before I exit the truck. “But, we have a complicated life, it’s dangerous, and we have a lot of enemies, someone innocent like you doesn’t need to get involved in what we do.” I nod, eyes fixed on the floor of the truck. “You probably think I’m an asshole, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about what’s best for my boys.”

“Sam and I really care about each other,” I say quietly, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t doubt that Sam cares about you, Ellie, but you are in high school, once you graduate, you’ll be going off to college and Sam will be rejoining his brother and me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t stop you two from seeing each other, but remember Ellie, this _goes nowhere,”_ he says firmly.

I feel the tears welling in my eyes. Sam and I had a wonderful night together, and John had ruined it in a matter of minutes.

“You aren’t going to tell my parents, are you?” I sniff, trying to keep the tears away.

“No, darlin’ I won’t say anything. And if you two are going to continue seeing each other, I need you to do one thing for me,” I look at him curiously, “be _safe_.”

“We are,” I feel the blood rush to my face as I look down at the floors of the truck. I still feel the need to stick up for Sam. “Sam—he wants to go to college, Mr. Winchester, and I know that your wife died, but Sam doesn’t need that burden on his shoulders.” I say, and his body stiffens again. “He deserves to live his own life.”

“Ellie, I know you want what’s best for him, and whether you believe it or not, I do too. But some girl in a town that no one has ever heard of isn’t going to stop me, or my sons from doing what we do best. One day you’ll see the _real_ Sam, the _hunter_ , and you’ll understand why he could never settle down with someone like you,” his words sting. “That’s just how it is, darlin’.”

With that, I exit the truck, unwilling to let John see my tears. I make my way into my house, allowing the tears to consume me as soon as I close the door.


	7. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Sam continue to see each other despite John's warning.

**May 2003**

_Ella POV_

When Sam shows me his acceptance letter, I burst into tears. A mixture of happiness and sadness consume me. I know it’s his dream, it’s his chance to get away from his dad, but a part of me selfishly wants him to stay longer. I get my acceptance into the university thirty minutes away the next day, mom and dad insisting it’s the right one for me. I still plan on taking the following year off, but I have yet to inform them of my plan.

The day before graduation, I’m on the floor of the bathroom for the fourth morning in a row, emptying the contents of my stomach. I chalk it up to nerves, Sam leaving in less than a week, finals and graduation. I feel a cold towel on the back of my neck, and turn my head to see mom behind me, trying her best to soothe me as I fight the urge to vomit again.

“Honey,” she says, rubbing my back, “maybe we should take you to the doctor?”

“Mom,” I offer weakly, knowing all the color has drained from my face. “I’m fine. I think it’s just a stomach bug. I don’t even have a fever.”

“Either way, you’re staying home today, I’m gonna call the school.”

“Mom,” I try to protest, dry heaving over the toilet. “It’s the last day, no one’s gonna believe that I’m sick.”

“It doesn’t matter, Lizzy. It’s only a half-day, your teachers will understand. The ceremony is tomorrow, and you need to keep up your strength, your father and I would hate it if you couldn’t go.”

I try to stop her, but she’s already out the door, and I can hear the muffled sounds of her calling the school. I gather myself and head back to my bedroom. I crawl into my bed, pulling the covers over my head and sleep for hours. I wake up late in the afternoon, feeling slightly better. My eyes focus on the framed photo on my bedside table; a present Sam had given me weeks earlier on what he called our six-month anniversary. I smile, thinking about how he sheepishly explained that it had been six-months since we had met. It was from one of our first dates, nearly ruined when I got my period. It suddenly dawns on me. _Shit._

I hop out of bed, making my way to the desk where my day planner sits. I frantically open it to the beginning of the month, looking for the subtle stars that I would have put on the pages, _nothing._ I go back another month scanning the pages desperately, assignments, and the occasional date with Sam being the only thing written on them.

“Has it been since March?” I whisper to myself as I count the weeks. “You cannot be this girl, Ellie. Ten Weeks.” I cover my face with my hands, thinking back. _Spring Break._ “Shit. _”_

“Lizzy? Everything okay?” Mom calls from outside my room, perhaps I’m not being as quiet as I thought. “You feeling any better?”

“Yeah, mom, I just…” I open the door to come face to face with her; concern etched on her face. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air.”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

“No, I won't be gone long,” I say, grabbing my wallet as discreetly as I can, heading downstairs and out the front door. I make my way to the drug store, praying that I’m wrong, we’d been so careful. The chime of a bell pulls me out of my head as I enter the store. I feel a sense of relief as I look around, noticing that the store’s empty besides the pharmacist behind the counter. He’s new to Weldon, and I rejoice knowing he won’t recognize me, smiling at me as I walk past him.

I stand in front of the row of tests, I hear the chime again, bringing my attention to the door, and I begin to panic as I recognize one of my classmates. I grab a test and make my way to the counter, quickly paying. I rush home, run into my bathroom, and tear the box open, carefully reading the instructions. I slip back into my room, quietly shutting the door behind me, and sit on my bed watching as my clock slowly passes the time. I take a deep breath as I compare the stick to the box. _Positive. Crap, crap, crap._ I throw the box and instructions away, keeping the test, willing it with all my might to change. If anything, the pink plus becomes more dominant, taunting me.

I stare at the test in my hands, unsure of what my next move should be. _How am I gonna tell Sam? What about Stanford?_ I’m unable to stop the tears from flowing.

“Honey, are you sure you’re okay?” I hear mom’s voice on the other side of the door. “Maybe you shouldn’t go out, you should-” she opens the door just enough to walk in. She stops in front of me, and I can hear the concern laced in her voice. “What’s wrong?” I know I look a mess, face blotched, and eyes puffy. I grip the test tighter in my hands and shake my head. “Lizzy, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“You’ll hate me,” I whisper, not looking up. “I can’t-”

“Lizzy, I could never hate you.” She closes the door behind her. “You’re my daughter, and I love you.”

I open my hands slowly, revealing the test to her. It takes her a moment as she takes a step closer, taking it out of my hands.

“Oh, Lizzy,” she whispers, handing it back to me. "How—how did this happen?"

"I'm sorry.” I choke out through sobs, “We didn’t mean to. I—I—”

“Shh..” she sits down next to me and wraps her arms around me, placing a kiss on my head; I’m prepared for yelling, not this. She holds me against her as sobs leave me uncontrollably. “Sam?”

"I thought we were careful. It-It was an accident."

"What was an accident?" Dad says as he walks by my room, "Sarah, Lizzy?” He looks between us. I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another sob. His eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him. “What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Rob, you should sit," I feel the bed dip for a moment as mom steps away from me, and guides dad to a chair in the corner of my room. She gestures to me to move towards the end of my bed, so we’re both facing him. "I want you to stay calm, okay?" He nods reluctantly. "Don't jump to any conclusions, Lizzy is going to need you," Dad’s jaw clenches and his breathing becomes heavier as he prepares himself for what mom is about to tell him. “Lizzy is..” mom’s own voice is shaky, she takes a deep breath, “pregnant."

All the worry and confusion on dad’s face immediately fades away. His face grows red, his brow furrows, and his breathing becomes rapid. He stands up quickly, pacing the floor of my bedroom. He’s silent as I continue to cry, my shame and embarrassment consuming me.

“ _Sam_ ,” he rasps, unable to look at me. “He- he took advantage of you.” I can see a vein throbbing in his neck,

“ _Rob_. Lizzy’s old enough-”

“That boy is over 18, Lizzy is a minor… I should go down to the sheriff’s office right now and—"

“Daddy, no!” I cry, trying to reason with him, “Sam, he didn’t- he didn't do anything to me. It’s not his fault.”

“Like hell, it isn’t!” He continues pacing in front of me, mom grabs at his shoulder, trying to get him to sit back down. “He’s clearly been _conditioning_ you ever since the attack. He made sure that you thought he was your savior so that you would do _anything_ for him."

"Rob, calm down, this isn't good for Lizzy, what’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Lizzy and Sam, they’ll have to deal with the consequences."

"No, Sarah. We told her that boy was bad news. Now Lizzy's in trouble." He turns to face me. "You aren’t having that baby,” he says sternly.

"Dad,” I barely muster, “you can’t. Please.”

“Rob, let’s talk about this.” Mom tries to argue, “maybe we should-”

“ _You’re not having it_.” He points at me, “and you’re not going to see that boy again." Dad leaves my room; mom quickly follows him.

For the rest of the night, I hear muffled arguing. I fall asleep, still clutching the test in my hands. When I wake up in the morning, dad doesn’t speak or even look at me. As I sit down at the table, he immediately leaves, and I want to break down. Mom offers a sad smile, eyes puffy, and red. She runs her hand down my back, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll get through this, Lizzy.”

When we arrive at the school the next day, I search the hallways for Sam. I find him standing outside the auditorium watching as parents file in. ' _You can do this, Ellie.'_ I'm about to touch his shoulder when he turns around, widely smiling when he sees me standing behind him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Missed you yesterday," he says, placing a kiss on my cheek. "Your mom said you were sick." My whole body stiffens, and I take a shuddering breath. He pulls away from me slightly, noticing my blotchy face, and the tears I'm trying to fight. "Ella, what's wrong?" I shake my head and look down at the floor, not ready to say the words. “You're scaring me. It can't be that bad, talk to me, baby."

"It is that bad," I whisper, bringing my eyes up to meet his face. “I- I thought it was stress, or a bug or something. Then I realized, it’s been weeks.”

“Ella.” His eyes search my face, trying to make sense of what I’m telling him. “Weeks since what? What are you trying to say?”

A shattered exhale leaves me, “I’m pregnant.”

All the color drains his face, "No, you can’t be,” he shakes his head. “We always use protection."

“Spring Break?” I mutter, choking back the lump in my throat, using all my might to not break down in front of him.

“That was over two months ago.” Sam paces in front of me, stopping when he catches sight of me. “You’re sure?”

I chew on my bottom lip, nodding my head.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" he asks, running his hands through his hair, apparent concern lacing his voice. “I would have been there with you.”

"’M sorry,” my voice cracks, “I didn’t know. This is my fault. I should’ve-”

"No, Ella, this is not on you. It takes two, and I should’ve—we _both_ should have been more careful," he says, pulling me back into a hug, holding me as I sob into his chest. We stay like that for a few minutes; I can hear him sniffling and feel his hands leave me for a moment to wipe his eyes. He lets me calm down before speaking again. "What do you want to do?"

"Dad wants me to get rid of it," I say against him.

"Your dad doesn’t get to make that decision,” he says firmly. “What do _you_ want, Ella?"

"I don’t know.” I was still processing everything. I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to do. Neither mom nor dad asked me what I wanted. All I can think about are our futures, how badly we both want to get away from our families. Now, it doesn’t seem like a possibility. I can’t get rid of the baby; it’s Sam and me.”I want to have it," I pull away, my eyes fixated on the ground, “but if you don’t—"

He stops me, softly cupping my face and guiding it up until our eyes meet and then smiles warmly. “Ella, I love you so much, and this,” he splays a hand gently over my stomach, "is our baby. If you want to keep it, Ella, I'm here."

"What about Stanford?" I ask softly, it is his dream, and as much as I don’t want him gone, I don’t want him to feel forced into staying.”You’ve worked so hard.”

“Come with me,” he says, taking my hands in his. “You, me, and the baby. We’ll go to California; it’ll be the fresh start we’ve both always wanted.” A glimmer of hope wells up inside me, and I smile. “Away from our parents, everyone who knows us, we can do whatever we want.”

“Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

“I mean it, more than anything. I love you, no matter what. I think we can do this, together, I’ll figure everything else out. Take a few days, I still have to tell my dad about Stanford _,_ and I’ll tell him about the baby too.” I can’t believe what he’s saying. “I’m leaving on Monday, and I want you to come with me.”

“You don’t have to do this, Sam,” I look back down at the ground, “this can be your out.” John’s words from months ago replay in my head. “I’m just some girl from a town you were working a case. I was never gonna leave this place. You can tell me the truth. If you don’t ever want to see me again, I’ll understand. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you.”

“I love you. And I’m gonna love our baby so much. Monday, at 7 a.m., I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * *

_Sam POV_

Sunday comes quicker than I expect it to. Dad wants to leave the night of graduation, just like he threatened, but I convince him to wait out the weekend. He and Dean had been working back-to-back hunts for the last month, and though neither of them will ever admit it, they’re exhausted. I already quit my job at the grocery store and I use the little money I have saved to buy a ring from the pawn shop—a simple gold band with a small square-cut diamond. One day I’ll get Ella the ring she deserves. With Dean in town, I know I can easily get into the bars and earn some extra cash for the trip. Dean’s always been the better player, but I need to get as much as I can, for Ella and the baby.

I should have proposed the moment she told me about the baby, but it would have seemed forced. I don’t want her to think that the only reason I want to marry her is that she is pregnant. I want her with me; I want her to be my family.

There is only one hitch in my plan; Ella’s parents. At seventeen, we would still need her parents’ consent to be married. Not only will I need their permission, but I also need their blessing. _‘They’re very old-fashioned.’_ Ella’s voice rings in my ear. They never quite warmed up to me, only tolerating my presence when necessary. That will have to change now; I’m the father of their grandchild, I’m going to marry their daughter.

Dean and dad are out, so I pull out a button-down from the back of my closet. I haven’t worn it since Valentine’s Day, but it’s the nicest piece of clothing that I own. I lift my pillow, inspecting the ring once more before putting it in my pocket. I pull up to Ella’s house and notice a dim light coming from her window. I take a brief moment, calming myself before walking up to her front door. I knock and pace in front of the door, reminding myself to breathe. I hear grunts on the other side before the door swings open.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Sam,” Ella’s father appears in front of me.

“Sir, I want to talk to you about Ella,” I say, trying to keep myself calm as I see the growing anger on his face.

“You took advantage of Lizzy, and now she’s in trouble.”

“I didn’t-” I take another deep breath. He can’t possibly believe that; I have to make him understand. “I love Ella, and I take full responsibility for what happened. Ella and I-"

“There is no you and Lizzy,” he snaps. “You stay away from my daughter."

"I’m sorry, Mr. Jameson, but I can’t do that. Ella's carrying my baby, and I want to be with her, forever." I scramble for the ring in my pocket. I open the box to show it to him. “I want to do the right thing, sir, I want to marry her.”

"That’s not going to happen, Sam," he says, dismissing the ring and stepping out from the doorway and onto the porch. "You ruined Lizzy's life, and she wants nothing more to do with you. She’s spent the last three days broken up over everything, Everything she’s worked so hard for, it’s all gone down the drain, thanks to your foolish behavior. She’s asked her mother to make her an appointment at the women’s clinic, and then this will all be over. You can go back to your own life, and Lizzy can go back to the plan we made. There will be no baby.”

“ _No_ ,” I whisper, “She said… she can’t.” She said she wanted to keep it, what changed? “Please, Mr. Jameson, let me talk to her.”

"She can, and she’s going to. You will not be talking to her anytime soon. Don’t you think I know what you’ve been up to? The only reason her mother and I allowed you two to date was because Lizzy begged us. She told us you were a good person, and I’ll admit you had me fooled. I know you've been conditioning her ever since the attack, making her reliant on you. You’re lucky I haven’t gotten the sheriff to arrest you, stay away from our family.”

"Sir, please. I- I have never done anything to hurt your daughter. Please, can I have five minutes with her?" I’m desperate. I need to talk to her. I need her to know that I’m here.

“No. Lizzy has already made her decision, and we will not allow you to talk her out of it. She doesn’t want to see you again.”

“Please, leave our family alone,” Ella’s mother says, appearing behind her husband. “Haven’t you done enough damage? We all want what’s best for Lizzy; as soon as all this is over, we’re moving. This is too much for her.”

“Please, I _love_ your daughter. I want to marry her, that’s why I’m here.” I show the ring to her mother. “To ask for your blessing and your permission, she and I _can_ do this. Please, just let me see her,” I beg them. “Please.”

“She’s resting.” Her father sighs, taking the ring from his wife’s hands and handing it back to me. “Sam, this was a difficult decision for Lizzy, and she didn’t come to it lightly. You should go.”

I leave the house, defeated. I know she wouldn’t have made that decision without me. If it’s what she wants, really wants, then I can understand, but I still want her with me, baby or no baby. I have to hope that she’ll show up tomorrow morning. She has to.

Pulling back into the motel parking lot, I spot dad’s truck, but the Impala is nowhere to be found. A part of me is happy that Dean isn’t here; there’s no way I can tell both dad and Dean about Stanford _and_ the baby. It’s going to be hard enough to tell dad about Stanford, but having to also tell him about Ella, and admitting he was right about us, _that_ scares the crap out of me. He had made it clear that he thought she was too young, and that we were getting too serious, too fast.

The ring box sits in the center of the bench; I can’t bring it back inside, not until I talk to dad. I take a couple of deep breaths, calming myself before exiting the car. Maybe once he learns I got a full-ride, he’ll understand, it’s only four years. I pull my key out, slowly unlocking the door as I prepare myself for whatever may happen next.

“Hey, Sam,” Dad’s walking between the dresser and the spare bed, packing his duffle bag, whistling as he takes in my appearance. “A little dressed up for hustling, don’t you think?” He laughs as my cheeks burn. “How’d it go? Make any money? Swindle some college kid out of his trust fund? Or maybe you got some old bat to leave you her fortune, set us up for life?”

I laugh uneasily, setting my keys and phone down, dreading what I’m about to tell him. I rarely see him in a mood like this, I huff, struggling to find my words.

“C’mon, Sam, you know I’m just fuckin’ with you.” He zips the bag up and sets it on the floor. “You say good-bye to Ellie yet? Don’t drag it out; it'll only make things worse.”

“I—”

“It’s for the best Sam. Maybe in a few years, after we finish the job, you can come back and see her again. She’ll probably be married, have a gaggle of kids running around.” My heart stops beating at the mention of kids. I know what he’s doing; he wants me to be ready for her to move on, he still thinks I’m going with him and Dean. “She’ll probably just get her M.R.S. degree while at college.”

“Dad,” I stop him. “I- I have to tell you something. Why don’t you sit?”

“Oh-kay.” He’s confused but compiles, sitting on the edge of the bed, “What’s going on, Sam?”

I pace in front of him. ‘ _Stanford first. Then Ella and the baby.’_ I know he isn’t going to like anything I’m about to tell him. I look down at the dark green carpet of the room, never having paid attention to it before. I look back to dad, concern, and impatience etched on his face. I’m leaving in the morning; I can’t have them both in the dark, _tell him._

“IwasacceptedintoStanford,” I blurt out. He furrows his brow, and I realize he didn’t understand me. I take a deep breath, preparing myself to say it again, this time more deliberately. “I was accepted into Stanford, full-ride,” I say clearly, “and I’m going. There’s early admission, and I have to be there in a few weeks.”

“S-Stanford?” He says in disbelief, a small smile forms before he shakes it off, hardening his face. “Sam, we talked about this. There’s no reason for you to go to college. Your brother and me, we need you.”

“It’s what I want, dad,” I say calmly. “Ella and I-”

“ _Ellie,”_ he sighs, “of course it’s about her, _”_ he groans, burying his face in his hands. He is silent, and I can see his shoulders tense and nostrils flare before he’s off the bed, pacing in front of me. " _Ellie_ is a minor, Sam. You can't just up and take her with you to California. You do know what happens when you take a minor across state lines without their parent’s permission, don’t you? It’s called kidnapping. And I’m sure her parents would have no issue pressing charges against you. We've all tolerated your little romance,” he huffs, “but it's time to move on." I knew what that tone meant, no room for argument. "She's a nice girl and all, but she isn't cut out for the life we lead, you know that. You belong with your brother and me, and she belongs here."

“She's coming with me,” I state, trying to keep my voice steady. I wanted to ease into this subject, but I can see from just this moment that there’s no easy way to do this. "Her and the baby _._ ”

He looks like I just hit him with a ton of bricks.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Sam! She’s pregnant?” Dad roars, “she’s knocked up, and what? Goddammit, son, I told you. I told you to be careful, I told you to end it with her, and now you think you are going to ride off into the sunset? You’re going to take her away with you, from the only place she’s ever lived? She’s trying to trap you here, Sam, don’t you see that?"

He paces back and forth in front of me, his anger rolling off him in waves. I try to stay calm; he’s shocked and pissed. "You barely even know the girl. She could be sleeping around with half the boys in your class. You’re just gonna believe her when she tells you that kid is yours? No, Sam, I’m not gonna let you ruin your life just cause some little slut-"

All I see is red. I have dad on the floor before either of us realizes it’s happening. I’m holding him down as my fist pulls back and connects with his jaw.

“Don’t you talk about her that way!” I yell as my fist comes down again. I can already see a bruise forming at the base of his jaw, and I can feel my knuckles getting scrapped with every hit. "It's my baby!"

He doesn’t fight back at first, letting me get in a few more hits before his hand connects with my cheekbone. He flips us over, easily holding me down. He keeps me pinned there as I thrash against him. His palm meets my face again, and he loosens his grip on me. I pull my hand back, going for the final hit. I don’t realize that he’s trying to calm me down.

“Sam, you can’t let this girl ruin your life, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

I hear the door open, and dad’s distracted as I land another blow. Dean pulls dad off of me, as I try to go in again. “What the fuck is going on?” He inspects dad as I get up, feeling the bruise forming on my cheek. Dean steps away from dad, and I go charging in again.

“That’s enough!” Dean shouts, stepping between the two of us. “Sammy, back off.” He looks back at dad, who’s wiping the blood away from his nose. Dean walks me away from dad, fights between us rarely got physical, and Dean knows that. Him needing to pull us off of each other could only mean something serious. “Talk to me, man, what’s going on?”

“Nothin’,” I pant. Dad lets out a sarcastic laugh. I move towards him again, jabbing the air as I try to close the space between us. Dean is quick to push me back, “Don’t talk about her.”

“You’re a selfish son of a bitch; you know that? Gonna walk away from your brother and me?” Dad spits out. “For what? Some girl? College?”

“Sam? What is he talking about?” Dean looks at me, questioningly.

“I was accepted into Stanford. And I’m going. I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, _tomorrow?_ ” Dean steps back, and his eyes go wide at my confession. “Sammy, you can’t. We need you.”

“I’m going, Dean, it's something I have to do. If I stay here any longer-”

“Sammy…” Dean runs his hands over his face, guiding me towards the door. “Let’s take a drive before you say something you’ll regret.”

“Fine,” I say, picking up my keys and exiting the room. Dean’s close behind me, entering the car as I turn the engine over.

“Something else you want to tell me, Sammy?” He asks, picking up the box. “Something to do with Ellie?”

“No,” I snap, grabbing it out of his hands and placing it in the glove box. He opens his mouth to speak again, “I mean it, Dean. Drop it.”

* * *

_Ella POV_

I gather my things quietly, packing as much as I can into a large duffle bag. I write out a note and leave it on my desk, hoping that Sam and I will be long gone by the time mom or dad find it. They are making plans to send me away soon, sending me off to live in the middle of nowhere until the baby’s born, and I can put it up for adoption. I called Jana last night, asking her to take me to the motel, I know I can trust her to keep my request a secret.

I quietly make my way down the stairs and out the front door. Jana’s already at the corner where our streets intersect, warmly smiling as I get into her car, quietly sipping on a coffee. The smell makes my stomach turn, and I use every ounce of will-power I have to not vomit in her car. We sit in a comfortable silence as she drives towards the motel. I take in the town one final time, knowing I very well may never come back here. She drops me off in the parking lot and insists on staying until she sees Sam, but I assure her I’m okay.

I walk up to the door, knocking on it softly—grumbling coming from the other side. John answers the door, a look of surprise on his face when he realizes it’s me.

“Mr. Winchester," I say, looking around the room, noticing the alarm clock next to Sam’s bed, _6:15_. "Is Sam here?"

John takes a deep breath, seemingly turning something over in his mind. He looks down at the bag at my feet.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, Sam’s gone," he says, pointing to where Sam usually parks his car. "He left last night."

“W-what?” I look into the room. “He said--” John smiles sympathetically at me. “He’s coming back, right?” I asked, hopefully. John shakes his head. “Can I call him? It’s important.”

“Left his phone here,” he says, gesturing to the side table. “Said he didn’t want to be bothered anymore.”

“But what about...?” I move my hands to my stomach, John’s eyes follow, and he lets out a sigh.

“He told me about the baby,” he says looking where my hands were gently laying. “I hate to be the one to tell you this Ellie, but he decided he wants nothing to do with it. Said it’s too much.” He takes another long breath as if what he’s about to say is going to hurt him. “Said he,” John closes his eyes as the words come out of his mouth, "doesn’t want to be saddled down with a kid.”

"What?" I can’t believe what I'm hearing. "Why would he say that?"

"I don’t know, darlin’. I told him if that’s how he felt, then he should talk with you.” He brings his hand up to his chin, and I notice a small bruise forming there. He rubs the scruff forming on his face, “He thinks that you got pregnant on purpose so you could trap him into staying here. ”

“I- I wasn’t, I’m not.” I shake my head. "I'm going to have the baby," I blurt out. “My parents wanted me to- to have an abortion, but I told them I couldn't." I take a long breath, trying to keep myself calm. "They want me to give it away, but- I don’t know, I want to keep it. It’s _my_ baby.”

“You do whatever you think is right, Ellie. And if I hear from Sam, I’ll tell him what you’ve told me. Here,” he says, grabbing a notepad off the table and writing a number down. “You need anything, you call me, okay?”

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” I say, folding the paper gently and sticking it into the pocket of my bag, letting the tears I'd been holding back fall freely.

“You can call me John, Ellie, we’re family now.” He smiles warmly. “Let me take you home, darlin’.”

We don’t speak on the drive to my house; the only sound filling the air is my sniffs. John parks in front of my house, and gets out to come around and help me exit the truck. He stands there for a moment, before gently pulling me into a hug, reminding me to call him if I ever need anything. I smile and nod, wiping the tears away as I turn away from him, walking towards my home. I look back once more, and he gives me a smile and a wink. My parents are out the front door before I’ve made it halfway there. Mom keeps her arms around me as dad charges towards John’s truck.

“You keep your son away from my daughter. If you don’t, I’ll-”

“You’ll _what_?” John says, stepping away from the truck. “I’d choose your next words wisely.” Dad’s body stiffens as John approaches him, eyes shifting to me, then back to dad. “I know about Ellie’s _condition_ , and I am no happier about it than you are.” It's the last thing I hear before mom ushers me inside. I watch from the living room window as John and dad continue talking for several minutes. As soon as he’s gone, mom and dad walk me towards their car, confirming what I already know; they’re sending me away.

* * *

_Sam POV_

We’ve been out for hours, Dean spending most of the time trying to get me to tell him what was going on between dad and me. He already knows that it involves Ella, guessing that she was trying to get me to stay. “A-As long as you didn’t knock her up. Last thing any of us needs is a baby showing up on our doorstep.” I nearly choke on my beer.

“But you always wrapped it, right, Sammy?” he laughs, taking another shot. I nod hesitantly. “Then you got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

“Yeah.” A part of me wants to tell him, Dean’s the only one I know I can trust to help us through this, make dad understand. But as he finishes off his beer gesturing at the bartender for another, speech becoming more slurred, I know I can’t tell him, not like this. He’s pissed off enough at the thought of me leaving; I can’t disappoint him further.

“ _Stanford,_ huh?” He throws back another shot. I know he’s trying to cover the bitterness in his voice when he grumbles, “Dad’s never gonna let you go.”

“He can’t stop me; I’m nineteen. I’m not like you, Dean, I want to be more than just a hunter.”

“You’re just gonna go off, knowing what’s out there and not do anything about it?” Dean accuses, tossing back another shot of amber liquid. “Live some college-boy fantasy life? Join a frat?” He’s becoming more belligerent. “You should’ve dumped Ellie weeks ago. She won’t be able to handle the long-distance.” Dean brings the brown bottle to his lips. “Can’t let some chick stop us from what we do best.” _Some chick_. _I want to punch him in his face._ “They always fall hard, Winchester’s have a-always had a-way with the ladies.”

“Whatever you say, Dean.” He’s drunk and probably won’t remember any of this later. “Let’s go,” I say, pulling him off the barstool, and he nearly takes us both down. I walk him out of the bar, putting him in the back seat of my car so that he can sleep it off. I settle into the front seat, cautiously reach into the glove box, and pull out the ring. _She’ll be there. She loves you._ I repeat it over and over until sleep consumes me.

A rapping on my window pulls me out of my deep sleep, a security guard telling me to move along. Pulling out of the bar’s parking lot, I notice the time, _6:30_. Shit, I need to hurry, I told Ella to meet me at 7:00. Dean grumbles in the back seat as I pull into the motel’s lot and shut the car off. I’m already at the door to our room by the time he stumbles out of the back, but before I can stick the key in the lock dad swings the door open. Dad rolls his eyes as Dean struggles to stand upright.

“Dean, why don’t you go take a shower and sober up? We’re leaving in an hour,” he snaps, taking in our appearance. Dean mumbles in response as he pushes past me. Dad closes the door behind me and inhales deeply. I open my mouth to speak, but he raises his hand to stop me. When we hear the shower running, he turns to me, rubbing his face.

“Sam,” his eyes meet mine, “I know we both said some things last night.” I walk past him, not acknowledging him. “But you can’t just walk away. You can’t walk away from your brother and me. We need you, Sam.”

I consider his words and then grab my bag off the floor. “I’m going, and you can’t stop me.” I walk to the door, “Ella will be here soon, and we’re leaving, _together_.”

“Ellie’s not going anywhere with you, Sam,” he says as I reach for the doorknob. “She called after you left, she and her parents agreed that the best decision for everyone would be termination. She doesn't want you around anymore. She wants you to stay away so that you both can move on with your lives.”

“No!” I shout, turning back to face him, I can feel the heat pooling in my face. “She wouldn’t do that; she _loves_ me. What did you say to her?” I’m only inches away from him and can see the discoloration in his face from our previous fight. He continues to stare at me, face devoid of emotion. As I wait for him to answer, my anger gets the better of me, and my hand goes through the wall. “I know you said something,” I accuse him. “What did you say to her?”

“The _only_ thing I told her,” he sighs, “is that you would support any decision she made.” My vision is hazy as I hit the floor, sobs leave my body, and I can’t breathe. "I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, and I'm sorry.”

He pulls me into a hug, something that he hadn’t done in years, and lets me sob against him. “Ellie wants to be able to forget any of this ever happened, and I think you should too,” he says, trying his best to be comforting. I didn’t know how long I had been crying when dad finally spoke again. "I found us a case in Mississippi, and if we leave in the next hour, we can get there before dark.”

I pull away from him. _Of course,_ the next thing he would bring up is a case. I’d just lost my first real love, and all he can think about is a case.

“No,” I mumble, wiping the tears away from my eyes.

“Care to speak up, Sam?” Anger replaces the calmness that filled his voice moments ago.

“I said, no.” Rolling my shoulders, I stand to my full height. “I told you last night that I’m leaving for California today. With or without Ella, I'm done hunting.”

“You really are a stubborn son of a bitch. You’re gonna just leave your brother and me?” I don’t respond. "Just like that, huh? You get accepted into some fancy college, and now you're too good for us? Is that it? You'll never have a normal life, Sam. Whatever you do, you're going to put anyone you care about in the line of fire. You think you can handle that?” He scrubs a hand down his face. “Goddammit, son, think about your brother, you're just gonna walk outta here without a word to him? You think Ellie wants to have a kid with someone who has no respect for their family?"

"You don't know a _fucking_ thing about me and Ella.” I get into his face, “I _love_ her. I want to marry her. I'm going to convince her to keep the baby."

"If you really care about her, you'll respect her wishes.” Dad lowers his voice when he hears the shower turn off. “She wants you to stay away, wants nothing more to do with you, and you will not manipulate that young girl into keeping a baby she _clearly_ doesn't want just because you think you do.” Dean emerges, and dad pauses for a moment. “Let her move on with her life, son, and then you can too, with your brother and me. In a couple of months, you'll forget all about her."

“I’m done,” I huff, reaching for my bag.

“Sammy,” Dean pleads, “C’mon man, we talked about this, Ellie will understand.”

"You can’t control me anymore, dad,” I say bitterly, facing him once more. “I’m not going to be your obedient little soldier anymore. I fucking _hate_ you. You robbed Dean of his childhood, I never had a chance, and now, when I’ve got the opportunity to start over, you think I’m going to pass it up, for you? I would’ve—for Ella, but never _ever_ would I do it for you,” I reach for the door. “All I ever wanted was to be normal. You won’t stop me this time.”

“You walk out that door, don’t you ever come back, you hear me? Ever.”

I look at Dean a final time; I can see his eyes glistening, his jaw clenches as I turn the doorknob. ‘ _I’m sorry_.’ I open the door, taking a shuddering breath as I do the only thing I can; leave.


	8. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A car accident turns Ella and Sam's lives upside down.

_ Ella POV  _

**Present**

“It’s Cordy,” I whisper, he looks at me strangely, “it’s  _ Cordy, _ ” I turn back to the accident, and begin running towards her cries. It feels like my mind has completely disconnected from the rest of my body; every step feels like a struggle. I’m moving in slow-motion, her screams of terror send my heart into my stomach, every second feels like an hour. I no longer care about Sam, Dean, any of them, all I care about is getting to my daughter.

“Cordy!” I yell, finally reaching the accident. “Cordy, it’s Ellie, I’m here!” A police officer tries to keep me from the car, I push past him, but another man, a firefighter, stops me.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t allow you to go any closer,” he tells me in a calm but stern tone.

“No! That’s my- I’m her-” I desperately want to say it, but then see my parents; dad, bloody and groaning in the driver’s seat, mom on a stretcher, barely moving. I can’t see Cordy, but I can still hear her screams. “Please. That’s my family _. _ ”

“I understand that ma’am, however, we’re about to pull the doors off so that we can get them out. Okay?” I nod, feeling the tears flow from my eyes. “The driver’s side took the bulk of the impact. We’ve been trying to keep your,” he looks at me questioningly, “father?” I nod in response. “Father, alert.” I watch as they load mom into an ambulance, and make for the hospital. “Now, the little one—”

“Cordy”

“ _ Cordy _ ,” he repeats, “she’s wedged between the seats so we can’t determine how badly she’s been injured. She’s alert and talking, which is a good sign, and from what we can figure, she’s mostly scared right now, okay?”

“I need to see her,  _ please _ ,” I beg him, “I just need her to know I’m here,”

“Again, ma’am, I can’t allow that until we get them out. What’s your name? I’ll have one of my guys tell her that you’re here, anything you want us to tell her or your parents?”

“Ellie. My- my name’s Ellie. Are they going to be okay?”

“Right, uh, Ellie, it’s hard to say right now. Until we get them out and to a hospital, and they can assess their injuries...”

“You don’t know.” I say, “I’m a nurse; you can be direct.”

“We don’t know.” he agrees, “I’ve seen people walk away from worse, and I’ve seen people die from aftershock complications. We don’t know how much internal damage has occurred. Like I said, your father’s side took a majority of the impact, and your mother hit her head, we don’t know if it was on the dash or another part of the vehicle, from what we can tell it doesn’t seem as though she was wearing a seatbelt at the time of impact.”

I do my best to digest everything he has to say; I know he is right. I think back to my clinical hours. Car accident injuries can range from a few scratches to death, sometimes in patients that seemed to be uninjured; that full extensive workups must be done before making any conclusions. I have to keep reminding myself of that.  _ She’s talking; she’s alert, that’s always a good sign. _ Cordy is no longer screaming; the silence brings my attention back to the car. A firefighter is next to her door, arm outstretched through the broken window, and looks to be calming her. I stand there, only a few yards away, feeling helpless.

“We’re going to remove the driver’s side doors so that we can get your father and Cordy out,” he explains as a large piece of equipment is brought towards the car. “Your mother is already on her way to the hospital. The driver’s side sustained the most damage, so we are preparing for your father’s and sister’s injuries to be worse than your mother’s. We’ve got a chopper coming to lift them to the hospital; they’ll be here in less than 10 minutes.” He looks behind him as someone seemingly calls his name. “Now, when we remove the door it’ll be loud, you’ll probably hear a lot of screaming, but I  _ promise you _ , your father and Cordy are not in any danger.”

“Please, just save her,” I hear Sam say, up until that moment I’m unaware that he has been behind me, listening as the paramedic explained everything.

“Sir, we’re going to do everything we can to get them out of that car and to the hospital as soon as possible.” He looks at Sam sympathetically. “I’m sorry, they need me,”

“Can you just tell Cordy ‘one four three?’ Tell her Ellie says ‘one four three’.” I sob, tears streaming down my face.

He nods his head and walks towards the accident, continuing to bark orders at the other emergency responders. Without warning, Sam’s arms are around me, pulling me back against his chest as three firefighters move towards dad’s car with a large piece of equipment. He is the only thing keeping me standing, his strength becoming my own. The comfort of being in his arms is short-lived as I see the sparks fly away from the car. The sound wasn't just loud; it was deafening. The high-pitched squeal of the equipment made my entire body shudder, and somehow over all that, I could manage to hear Cordy’s sobs from inside the car.

“She’s okay, Ella, remember what he said, she’s just scared,” Sam whispers in my ear.

“Cordy needs me, Sam. She needs me with her to protect her.”

“You can’t protect her from accidents like these, Ella.” He turns me to face him. “She’s strong, Ella, she’ll be okay.”

After an agonizing 3 minutes, the shrill screech of metal lets me know they are removing the car doors. Sam holds me tight against him, the ear-piercing noise causing me to involuntarily wrap my arms around him, burying my head into his chest. I hear the cutting of the metal before what can only be the door hitting the pavement. Guttural moaning fills the air, and I try to turn myself towards the accident, catching a brief glimpse of firefighters pulling dad out. Sam stops me before I can see anything else, I hear paramedics talking to dad, trying to keep him conscious.

The sound of a helicopter landing in a vacant lot nearby makes me turn as I see emergency field doctors run out, taking over for the paramedics as they turn their attention to Cordy. Sam lets out a heavy breath as a firefighter pulls Cordy out next, the same one who had been speaking with us earlier, cradling her small body against him. I try to move towards her, but a police officer stops me. A cry of frustration leaves me as I try to see what is happening. Another set of doctors appear, and he gently lays her down as they begin to examine her as well. One doctor steps away briefly talking to a paramedic, he turns in our direction, pointing us out to her, and she makes her way towards us.

“You’re the family?” she asks, and I nod. “I’m Dr. Marks. I’m going to be one of the doctors taking care of your father and sister. We’re going to take them to Buchanan Memorial,” her voice is calm as she looks between us. “Your father will go into surgery immediately, and we will most likely be doing the same with your sister.” I can hear shouting coming from the helicopter. “They’re in good hands; we’re going to take good care of them, Buchanan Memorial.”

We both nod and watch as she runs back, and the helicopter takes off as soon as the doctor is seated. There is nothing I can do; every muscle in my body is paralyzed, watching as the helicopter disappears through the clouds. Sam’s speaking to me, but I can’t make sense of anything he’s saying. He is pulling me away from the accident; he’s always been quick to act.

“Ella, where’d you park?” he asks, snapping me out of my trance. “We need to go Ella. We need to be there.”

“Joe’s,” I mumble.

We hastily make our way through the crowd of people, Sam’s hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me as I struggle to move. I reach for my keys, fumbling with them until they fall to the ground. 

“Ella, let me,” Sam says, reaching for them. “I’ll drive.” I don’t respond as we walk into Joe’s parking lot. He keeps his arm around my waist, not knowing that he is the only thing keeping me upright. “Cordy’s gonna be fine, Ella,” he tries to assure me. I can see the trepidation in his face, though; he’s not only trying to convince me but himself. “She’s our daughter, and nothing is gonna happen to her.

I point my car out to Sam as we reach the parking lot, and he helps me in before making his way around to the driver’s side. The second the door shuts, I’m shaking, sobbing uncontrollably, if I weren’t already seated, my legs would’ve given out. The opening and closing of the door bring my attention to Sam and his own tears welling in his eyes. He leans over, bringing me as close to him as he can, wrapping me in his arms as I cry into his shoulder, his hand runs down my back doing all he can to soothe me. He pulls away from me as my sniffles subside, and takes my hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze.

As we pull away from Joe’s, I notice all the damage on the road, broken glass, and car parts from both vehicles. The crowds have thinned out, on-lookers watching as police officers circle both cars. I can’t peel my eyes away, hoping that somehow the accident isn’t as bad as I think it is. 

Neither of us speaks for the entire ride, the radio quietly playing in the background is the only sound in the car. I know if I open my mouth, I’ll break down, and I’m trying to stay strong for Cordy. Every couple of minutes, I can feel Sam looking over, watching me intently. 

Every maternal instinct I’ve pushed down over the last ten years comes to the surface with a vengeance. A voice in my head is shouting at me to tell her the truth, ignoring everything I had said to Sam barely an hour ago. Maybe she’s not old enough, but I should have never agreed with my parents. As soon as they’re all well again, we’ll sit down and have the discussion that I should’ve had with them when I decided to keep her, that it didn’t matter what the neighbors said.  _ I _ should be the one raising my daughter,  _ Sam’s _ daughter.

_ I should have tried harder to contact Sam _ .

John visited us after I had Cordy and met his granddaughter. He was fascinated by her, immediately falling for her. I’d never seen him act so sweet, cooing over this little girl who was the spitting image of his younger son. Less than a month after I arrived at my cousins’ home in South Dakota, I began receiving monthly letters from John. He kept in contact with me throughout my pregnancy, offering financial support, and continuing the narrative of Sam wanting nothing more to do with me.

But that was all a lie; he never told Sam anything. Everything he told me was a lie _. _

“Ella? We’re here.” Lost in thought, I don’t hear him. “Ella?”

“I should’ve come down,” I mumble, unable to look up at him, “I—"

“Ella,” his hand reaches for mine, grabbing it firmly, “what are you talking about? ”

“That night, when I heard your voice, I should’ve come down, but I was scared. Mom and dad fought about the baby as soon as they found out. There was so much screaming and crying. Dad gave me an ultimatum; have an abortion, or he was kicking me out. Mom-” I choke on my own words, I keep my eyes trained on my lap, my hands fidget as I think back to that night. “I’d never heard my parents fight as much as they did that weekend. Mom, she reached out to a cousin who would help with adoption arrangements and convinced my dad it was the best compromise. But I told them I wanted to keep the baby, that we  _ both _ did, dad told me I was ruining my life. I had to sneak out of the house, Jana dropped me off at the motel, and then John-” Sam lets out a frustrated sigh as I shake my head. “I know, another lie.”

“I- the whole reason I even came to your house that night was to,” he pulls my hands apart, stopping me from picking further at my nails. “I was going to ask you to marry me. I bought a ring and everything.”

“Really?” my eyes meet his for the first time since we left the accident. 

“Your dad told me that you had already made an appointment at a clinic. I was heartbroken, Ella. In the morning, dad said…” he shakes his head, we already knew our parents lied, he clearly didn’t want to get into it again. “He was manipulating me, trying to get me to stay, and I said some things that I really couldn’t take back. Dad told me that if I left, that I couldn’t come back.” Sam takes a deep breath, “I didn’t want to leave without you, but if I didn’t leave, Dean would have found a way to get me to stay. If anyone besides you could’ve gotten me to do anything, it would be him.” Sam looks at me with his large eyes, tears welling in them, “I’m sorry, I should’ve never believed any of them.”

“I know,” I whisper, “I am too.”

“What do we do now?” He brings his hand up, cupping my face, “about everything?

“I can’t-I can’t even think about that right now, Sam,” I huff as I step out of the car. “The only thing that matters is Cordy. We can figure everything else out later.” I try to keep the coldness out of my voice. I hope that Sam still knows me well enough to know that it’s fear and not anger that has the adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

We make our way in, stopping at the main desk to explain who we are, and we’re directed to the third floor. I ask the nurses for any information they can give me about my family. All they will tell us is that all three are in surgery, and suggest we sit in the waiting area across the hall. Sam stays silent by my side, hand firmly wrapped around mine,

Before we have a chance to sit down, a doctor approaches, asking if we are related to Mrs. Jameson. Once I confirm that I am her daughter, he begins to explain the extent of her injuries. My vision blurs, and I can only make out two statements through the fog in my brain.  _ ‘We did everything we could. We couldn’t revive her.’ _ I can barely breathe as almost inhuman wails escape my lips. Sam’s arms wrap around me as he moves us into a row of chairs, letting me sob into his chest.  _ She’s gone. And the last thing I did was pick a fight with her. _

“She knows you love her,” he speaks softly against me. I didn’t even realize I had said it out loud. “She knows you didn’t mean it.”

Murmuring his condolences, the doctor leaves us sitting in the waiting area. Panic rises in me when I recognize the doctor walking towards us, after waiting for what seems like hours. There’s another woman following close behind her. I pull from Sam’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the seat, fearfully awaiting what she has to say.

“Ms. Jameson? Dr. Marks, we met briefly at the sight of the crash?” She smiles warmly as she moves to take a seat across from us. “This is Lacey Wall; she is one of the hospital’s social workers. I’ve asked her to join us if you don’t mind?”

The woman behind her had to be my age or slightly older, and she gave me a friendly smile. “Lacey, please. I’m so sorry about your mother,” She reaches out her hand, and I shake it.

“Ellie. Thank you,” I look back to Dr. Marks. “I’m sorry, but why does a social worker need to be here?”

“We’ll get to it in a minute.” She turns to Sam. “And you are?”

“Sam Winchester.” He removes his hand from around me, extending it across the aisle to meet hers. “I’m- ” A ringing phone interrupts him. “Excuse me,” he says, offering an embarrassed smile. “Dean? Yeah. We’re at the hospital.” He walks away so that he is no longer interrupting us but is standing close enough so he can still listen in. Dr. Marks looks through her notes before speaking.

“Your father and sister are still in surgery. There was more internal bleeding then what we had anticipated with Cordelia, but we’ve gotten that under control.” She gives me a reassuring smile. I know what kind of smile it is, it’s one that means there’s bad news coming. “Her left wrist and ankle were both nearly shattered, and we’ve got our Pediatric Orthopedic Surgeon working on her right now. I’ll have her come and speak to you when she’s available.” Dr. Marks takes a deep breath, and I fear what she is going to say next. “As I said, she had more internal bleeding than we originally thought. We needed to give her a blood transfusion, it’s very standard, but when we ran a cross-match, her type didn’t match your mother or father.”

I notice Sam standing up out of the corner of my eye. “Dean, I gotta go.” He quickly ends the call. “There’s a problem with her blood?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say a  _ problem _ .” She looks between us. “Ellie? Would you care to go somewhere more private?” I had a feeling exactly where this line of questioning was going, and I shook my head. “Cordelia has  _ O negative _ blood, both your parents have  _ A negative _ , so you can understand that we have some questions.”

“Okay,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.

“You know that it is extremely rare for a child to have a completely different blood type than their parents? Especially when both parents have the same type?” Lacey asks, and I nod, but Sam shakes his head. “It’s less than seven percent. It’s not  _ impossible, _ but it is very unlikely.”

I nod my head, “We were going to wait until she was older to tell her.” 

“Okay,” Her eyebrows furrow, but her smile stays fixed as she jots something down in the notebook perched in her lap. “Do you know who her biological parents are?” 

“W-what?”

“I have a lot of experience helping patients with issues of paternity. If Cordelia is adopted, we will need her biological parents’ medical records. Was it a closed adoption?”

“Cordy wasn’t adopted,” I state firmly. That’s not the question I was expecting.  _ People believe what they want to believe _ . My own words echo in my head. This isn’t Weldon; people don’t know us here, why wouldn’t they think that Cordy was adopted? It’s a reasonable explanation.

“Okay.” Lacey makes a note on the page in front of her. “I know this may be difficult to answer,” she puts the pen in her lap, “but if Cordelia wasn’t adopted, and she is not the biological child of your parents, then we need to know who her parents are.”

“I-” Lacey looks at me with concern as I try to gather my thoughts. She probably thinks that I’m in shock over the “revelation” that Cordy can’t be related to both mom and dad. I shake my head as I try to compose something that will make them understand.

“Denial won’t help you or your sister, Ellie. All we want is what’s best for Cordelia,” Lacey breaks through my thoughts. “We’re not here to judge your family, but someone is lying about your sister’s parentage. You would’ve been old enough, do you remember anything? Anyone particularly close to your mother or father?”

“I don’t-” I shake my head.

“This is not about demonizing your parents, Ellie, but whatever your family is hiding, is it more important than Cordelia?”

There it is—the secret. I look at Sam, who is gently squeezing my hand. For the second time today, I am going to claim Cordy as my own. Something no doctor outside of our family practitioner knew.

“She doesn’t match my parents because...” I hesitate, “because she’s  _ my _ daughter.” I sigh a breath of relief at being able to say it. Something I haven’t been able to say in public since she was born, something I couldn’t even say privately once she had started understanding adult conversations. “If you test her again, you’ll see that she matches the maternal side.”

“We’ll do that,” she smiles, if Lacey is surprised she’s hiding it well, she picks up her pen to add more notes to her case record. "Her birth father, is he available?”

“Um-” My eyes shift back to Sam, who’s watching me intently. “He’s-”

“We would like to take a family history,” Dr. Marks speaks up, bringing my attention to her. Her eyes dart between Sam and me.  _ Does she know? _ “Cordelia needs an accurate and up-to-date medical history. We need to know if she is at risk for clots or seizures. Certain procedures could have terrible side effects if we don’t know her full history.”

“If there is an issue regarding her birth father,” Lacey leans forward, concern etched on her face, “we can set you up with one of our genetic counselors, and they can help fill in any blanks.”

“It’s me,” Sam’s voice falters for a moment, and he clears his throat before stating firmly. “I’m her father.”

“Okay,” Dr. Marks motions for a nurse to join us. “Mr. Winchester? We’d like to ask you some questions regarding your medical history.”

“Of course,” he sends me a small smile, “I’ll answer everything I can.”

“Right this way, Mr. Winchester, I’m going to have a nurse draw blood to confirm paternity.” She motions another nurse into the waiting area, “He’ll also be the one to take your history. I’m going to check on Cordelia’s progress. She should be out soon. I’ll have the surgeon working on your father update you. ”

“Thank you, Dr. Marks,” I say softly, watching as Sam is led out of the room.

“If you need anything,” Lacey holds a card in front of me, “please don’t hesitate.”

“We were just doing what we thought was best.” I sniffle, taking the card from her hands. “It’s not-”

“Ellie,” Lacey reaches out and gently squeezes my shoulder. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, to  _ anyone _ , for that matter.” She moves across the aisle, taking the vacant seat that Sam had occupied. “Cordelia is a lucky little girl, and whenever you feel it’s the right time to tell her, I’d like to offer any assistance that I can.”

Lacey stays with me for the better part of an hour, promising to keep me company until Sam returns. I ask her about changing Cordy’s birth certificate, she explains the process, assuring me that it will be easy once I have a document from the hospital confirming it. She helps me keep my mind off of the accident, and asks questions about Cordy, remarking that she has a little boy around the same age. 

Sam’s towering figure fills the space around us; his presence gives me comfort as Lacey leaves us alone.

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” Sam sits down next to me, his sleeve rolled up to reveal where the blood had been taken. “I’m sure that’s not how you wanted to tell anyone.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get put on the spot like that. I never-” My breath catches in my throat, and I’m quickly losing the battle against my emotions. 

“It’s okay, Ella. I told you I want to be her father. I want to be a part of her life. We’ll figure it all out, together.”

I couldn’t believe that less than a day ago, I was having a similar conversation with mom. We had all agreed that when Cordy was old enough, we would all sit down together and tell her, but it seemed that day was approaching faster than anticipated.

“Does this mean she’s a  _ Winchester _ now?” he asks, placing a small kiss on my cheek. 

“I don’t know.” Tears flood my eyes. 

“Ella.” His hand cups my face gently, and I lean into his touch.

“I-I wish I never agreed to this arrangement, I just- I couldn’t- after she was born-" Sam pulls me against him. “Cordy was mine,  _ ours _ . She was the one piece of you I still had left.”

“Ms. Jameson? Mr. Winchester?” An unfamiliar voice fills the air, and I wipe the tears away from my eyes, doing my best to pull myself back together. A woman in scrubs stands in front of us. “Dr. Olsen, I just finished working on Cordelia.”

“How is she?” Sam asks urgently.

“She’s going to be fine,” she says, sitting down in front of us. A broad grin spreads over Sam’s face, and I see the tears he’s been holding back since the accident finally break through. “Cordelia’s left ankle is severely damaged, and I had to insert some pins to set it. Her left wrist is broken as well; she’ll be in casts for the next couple of months.” My heart shatters at the thought of pins holding her body together. “She’ll be in recovery for the next hour or so, and once we get her into a room, we’ll have someone take you to see her. She’s going to have to stay here for a few days, and then you’ll be able to take her home.”

“Thank you.” I reach out for her hand, shaking it fervently. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do if-”

“You’re quite welcome.” She waves her hands as if she is telling me I didn’t need to say anymore. 

I wrap my arms around Sam, a mixture of laughter and sobs leave me as he places a kiss on my forehead. 

“Your daughter is very lucky.” Dr. Olsen excuses herself and leaves us to rejoice in the fact that Cordy will be well enough to go home in a matter of days. 

“Sam?” Dean's deep voice breaks through the joyful cries leaving both Sam and me.  _ ‘Shit.’ _ Sam mumbles under his breath as he pulls away from me. We break away from each other, turning around to see Dean only a few feet behind us. A shorter man in a trenchcoat is by Dean's side. Dean looks between us, his emerald eyes laced with confusion. “What is she talking about?”

“Cordelia,” the smaller man states, his voice is gravelly, and something about him puts me on edge. “Eliza’s daughter.”  _ How does he know my name? _ “Sam’s daughter.”

“ _ Cordelia _ ? Cordy? I thought…” Dean moves closer to us. “The night you left for Stanford...” He runs his fingers through the scruff forming on his face as he backs into a chair. “Shit, Sammy. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Face scrunched in contemplation as he stares at us, the man in the trenchcoat responds before Sam has a chance. “Sam wasn’t aware of her existence until recently.” 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean’s face hardens, and at the moment, he reminds me of John. “Did you know that Sam had a kid?”

“Yes.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean scrubs a hand down his face, irritation evident in every muscle in his body. “We’ve known you for how long? Five years? You never thought to mention that Sammy had a kid?”

“I was told that it was imperative to keep it a secret." The man’s tone is direct and matter-of-fact, almost robotic.

“How long?” Sam interjects. His face grows red, and his nostrils flare as he grips my hand tightly. Voice low and menacing, he snarls, “How long have you known and didn’t say anything?”

“Since…” the man looks at me, “the beginning. We all knew.”

“All?” Sam straightens to his full height, towering over the man. “Cas...  _ who knew? _ ”

“All of Heaven. Both Eliza and Cordelia were believed to be safer if you didn’t know.” Sam growls low in his chest and leans toward the man, dropping my hand and clenching his fists.

“Sammy-” Dean steps between them, placing a hand on Sam’s chest.

“It’s alright, Dean. Sam has every reason to be angry with me. I was just following orders. I have come to learn that is not always the right choice,” the man offers in what seems to be an apology.

Sam inhales deeply and then huffs out a breath, and I can see some of the tension leave his body. He glares at the man a moment longer and then turns to Dean. “What are you doing here anyway, Dean?”

“You said you were in the hospital. I thought that Cas might be able to help.” He waves a hand in front of us. “I never expected this.”

“Yeah, well, I guess none of us did.” Sam’s voice sounds weary now. He turns away from the other men, giving me a soft smile and reaches for my hand once again. I continue to watch Dean for a moment.

“Damn, Cas. All these years, you’ve kept this secret from Sam. From  _ me? _ ” Dean looks more upset about not being trusted than angry about the lie. “You could have told me you know.” He walks toward a chair and sits down

“Would you have been able to keep that knowledge from Sam?” The man, Cas, steps up beside Dean and squeezes his shoulder. “I am sorry, Dean,” he whispers.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The Dean I briefly knew all those years ago is nothing like the man who is sitting across from me now. He’s more level-headed, more thoughtful with his words and actions. He’s come a long way from the smug, flirtatious womanizer I remember. He and Cas seem to be sharing an almost intimate moment. I arch an eyebrow in surprise and give Sam a questioning look. He isn’t paying attention to either one of them, still upset over what this Cas person had told him. 

“ _ A kid _ ,” Dean breaks the silence that has been filling the room. “I can’t believe it, Sammy. You said-”

“We can get into all of that later.” Sam gently squeezes my hand, “Cordy is the only thing that matters. Once she is outta here, we can all get to know her. Right, Ella?”

The thought of introducing Sam to Cordy had made my heart nearly beat out of my chest. Now he’s suggesting I allow two more people into her life? I close my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to calm myself. Dean is still essentially a stranger to me; I’d only seen him a couple of times while Sam lived in Weldon. This other person, Cas, knows who I am, but I have no idea who he is, and that unnerves me. I open my eyes, feeling all three men staring at me, all waiting for me to say something,  _ anything. _ Every breath becomes harder to take. I count to ten quietly, digging my fingers into Sam’s hand as I try to calm myself. Sam moves swiftly out of his seat and immediately kneels in front of me. Dean is on his feet, closing the small space between us, and Sam motions for him to move back. 

“Ella, look at me,” he tilts his head so that he is in my line of sight. I mimic him as he straightens his body and keeps his voice calm and reassuring as I’m fighting with myself to keep the budding panic attack away. “You gotta breathe, Ella. In…out…” I follow his instructions. “Good.” 

“I don’t know if I can do it, Sam,” I muster. “Two days ago, I had everything figured out. I had put you out of my head a long time ago. I accepted that Cordy would probably never really know the truth about me, about you. I was getting ready to start my career, and then- you- you just happen to be at Joe’s the one time I’m there in  _ years _ . I just- it’s-”

“Your paths were destined to cross again,” Cas’ bright blue eyes flit between us. “The case-”

“Cas.” Dean stops him, “you’re not helping.” Cas eyes Dean for a moment and then nods.

I stare silently at the men in the room. My eyes repeatedly returning to Cas, who is he? I watch Dean from the corners of my eyes, and it seems almost as if he’s trying to read my mind, trying to fill in the blanks of what happened all those years ago. 

“Ms. Jameson?” An older man enters the waiting area and I stand to meet him. Sam also rises to help keep me steady on my feet. “I’m Dr. Barrett. I was working on your father.” Fear wells inside me,  _ not am, was _ ,  _ he was _ . “The impact damaged many of his internal organs, causing massive bleeding. We did everything that we could to stop it, but there was too much damage. I’m sorry, but your father died.”

My legs give out from under me, and Sam catches me before I hit the ground.  _ They’re gone.  _ I can’t think, my vision blurs, and I can barely breathe as Sam guides us back into our seats. My lungs burn as the wails leave me. Sam holds me tight against his chest, gently stroking my hair until I’m no longer crying. 

Once my sobs have ceased, I can hear the muffled voices of Dean and Cas, they’ve moved away, giving Sam and me some semblance of privacy. Sam squeezes my knee and offers a reassuring smile as he steps away to join their conversation.

“He can’t, Dean, not here,” Sam says sternly. “They just pulled her out of surgery. You don’t think anyone would find it suspicious?”

“Sam, there’s no reason that she should be walking around in a cast when we have a-” Dean looks over to me, “ _ someone _ who can help. He can help. You know that.”

“No,” Sam shakes his head, “ _ not here. _ ”

“Sam’s right, Dean.” Cas agrees. I watch all three of them, curious as to how exactly Cas can do anything to help. “Healing her here may alert…” Cas glances in my direction, “ _ others _ to my presence. We need to wait until we can get her somewhere safe and warded.”

“She’s got Sam and me, what’s safer than that?” A small chuckle leaves me.  _ There’s the cocky Dean I knew.  _

“Dean-” 

“Cas, she’s our blood.” Dean’s eyes narrow at Cas. “Get your feathery ass up there and start healing.” 

Sam turns away from me, muffling his speech as Dean begrudgingly agrees with whatever he said. I turn my attention away from them, unable to do anything else. I mindlessly pick away at my fingernails only half-listening to them as their discussion starts to turn into an argument between Sam and Dean.  _ Crowley, Kevin, Tablets, Bunker, Trials _ . Each brother throws the words back at the other, all of them going over my head. All three men continue to argue in hushed tones, seemingly trying not to bring even more attention to themselves. They don’t even notice when a nurse enters the area. 

“Ms. Jameson?” I nod, standing up to meet him. “Cordelia’s out of recovery, and we’ve moved her into a patient room. If you follow me, I’ll take you to her.” I nod, leaving Sam, Dean, and Cas without a word.

“You’ve got a tough little girl.” He says, walking me through a bright hallway. “She may still be sleeping,” he stops in front of a room, 3015. “When she wakes up, she may still be a little groggy from the anesthesia. We’ve got her on a mild pain medication for the time being; once she’s awake, we can give her something stronger if needed. We’re going to be monitoring her pain medication very carefully.” 

“Why?” I can’t stop myself from asking, everything I’ve learned over the past three years has vanished from my memory. At this moment, the only thing I can think about is that I don’t want her to be in any pain, period.

“We don’t want to give her anything stronger than what she needs.” I nod,  _ you know this, Ellie. _ I’m about to walk into the room when he continues speaking. “We’ve also noted that there is a history of addiction on her father's side.” 

The statement catches me off guard. I remember Sam telling me how John was no stranger to drinking, and even at a younger age, Dean was consistently using alcohol to cope. But I never thought that Sam had that problem as well, then I remember what he told me earlier.  _ ‘I nearly drank myself to death; I was spiraling.’ _

I walk into the dimly lit room, listening to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. My eyes land on Cordy, her tiny body in the center of the bed. I step closer to her, watching as her chest slowly moves up and down. I want to break down, but I refuse, I’ve done enough crying for today, and Cordy needs me to be strong for her. 

“If you need anything, just use the call button,” the nurse points to a red button near the bed. “Dr. Marks should be in to check in on her shortly.”

“Thank you.” I nearly whisper as I walk around the bed, taking a seat close to her. I set my hand on the bed, getting as close as I can to her uninjured side without touching her. I want to crawl into the bed and hold her, but I’m afraid to cause her any more pain. I want to comfort her the way I did when she was an infant, wrap her in my arms and hum  _ The Prayer _ until she settled. Sam would often use the song to calm me after I had flashbacks of the attack. 

I sit with Cordy, gingerly placing my hand over hers. The lyrics of the song leave my lips before I can stop them. How am I supposed to tell her the only parents she’s ever known are gone? Everything she knows is about to change. A low whine comes from her lips, and I know she is slowly waking up. Her eyes flutter, adjusting to the dim room, for a moment, panic sets in, and I squeeze her hand, bringing her attention to me.

“Ellie?” she whispers, her eyes, Sam’s eyes, focusing on me. I smile at her gently.

“Hey, kid.” I stroke my thumb against the back of her hand. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

“It h-hurts, Ellie,” her voice is small and weak as she looks away, focusing on her leg. A cry leaves her lips, and I’m doing everything I can to hold myself together. “It hurts a lot.”

“I know, Cordy, I know.” I carefully move onto her bed, propping myself up on my side. She tries to move against me, but the cast on her leg restricts her movement. I run my hand through her hair, comforting her as best as I can. She positions her head against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I want mom and dad,” she weeps, and I have to choke back my tears. My heart breaks when she asks for them. She doesn’t want me, she wants the two people she’s only ever known as her parents. The first time she uttered “mama” while looking at me was the last time I was able to be her mom at home. Mom and dad didn’t want to risk it; people were already suspicious; we moved her out of my room and into her own that afternoon. “Where are they, Ellie?” she cries, tucking her head under my chin. I take a deep breath, keeping myself as calm as I can. “I want them, Ellie.”

“Shh. I know, kid. Mom and dad...” She pulls away from me, eyes bloodshot, tears still streaming from them. “Mom and dad, they- they got hurt really bad in the accident. The doctors did everything they could to help them.”

“Are they gonna be okay?” 

“No, kid. Mom and dad- they’re…”  _ Be direct, Ellie _ . “they d-died.” 

“I-It’s my fault, I wanted to go to the park,” she says between sobs. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Hey, no. Cordy, look at me.” I grab her face tilting it toward my own. “This was _ not _ your fault. Sometimes things happen that we can’t control, that’s why they call them ‘accidents.’ Don’t you  _ dare _ think that this is your fault in any way, you understand me?”

“I-” she whispers, “You’re not leaving me, are you, Ellie?”

“Not in a million years, kid, it’s just you and me now.”


	9. One Four Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Cordy grieve the loss of their parents, Ella struggles with telling Cordy the truth. Sam wants to know his daughter.

For two days, I rarely leave Cordy’s side. The staff brings a cot for me, but I sleep with Cordy wrapped in my arms. On the second night, Dr. Marks insists I go home to get a decent night's sleep. ‘ _You still have to take care of yourself, Ellie_ ,’ she tells me. I hesitate, Cordy’s completely guilt-ridden, only sleeping for short bursts, and wakes up screaming for mom and dad. The only comfort she seems to feel is when I hum the same songs that I did when she was a toddler. I find it heartwarming knowing that somewhere, deep down in her subconscious, she must remember me doing this.

I reluctantly leave when Cordy’s given some medication to help keep her asleep that night, it is something that we have been avoiding, but three days of no _real_ sleep is only making the nightmares worse. I don’t remember driving to my apartment, just waking up in my own bed early in the morning. I quickly shower, washing away the sterile smell of the hospital. I grab a bag from my closet and stuff it with a weeks’ worth of clothes, not sure when I’ll be able to bring Cordy home. I don’t even know where we’ll go, there’s not much room here for the two of us, but I’m afraid taking her back home will only upset her more. 

The drive back mom and dad’s house seems to take longer than it has in the past. Curiosity gets the best of me when I drive past the motel near the town’s limits, I slow down briefly, looking for the Impala. Memories come flooding back; the first night Sam and I spent together, the first time we exchanged ‘I love you’s.’ Our first fight, which ended with us tangled in the sheets; it was also the night that he got me pregnant. I pull into the driveway, thankful that it’s early enough that the neighborhood is still quiet. I can feel the tension that lingers in the house as I walk in, my argument with mom replaying over in my head. I grab a small bag from the hallway closet and make my way up to Cordy’s room. It’s right next to my old room; a bathroom is the only thing separating them. I set the bag on her bed, filling it with clothes before grabbing a plush teddy bear off of a shelf in her closet. A small laugh leaves me as I examine the tan-colored fur, rubbing my hand over the soft material; it was mine when I was Cordy’s age, and it became hers after she was born.

I set the bag down at the bottom of the stairs. My eyes catch sight of a framed photo on the wall that I haven’t seen displayed before. In the photo, I’m cradling Cordy in my arms, my eyes fixated on her, mom is beaming with pride, I can almost hear her cooing at Cordy. Dad must be the one behind the camera; he had a habit of taking pictures when no one was paying attention. Cordy couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old. Tears press against my eyes as I run trembling fingers over the image of mom’s face. _She’s gone. They both are._

I carefully remove the picture from the wall, opening the back as I take a seat on the couch. Mom had always been very meticulous about labeling pictures, something she instilled in me as well. ‘ _Cordelia Mary, Lizzy, and Mom. November 2003’_ is written in mom's delicate handwriting on the back corner. Why would she put this picture on display? They had been extremely particular about what photos they framed from when Cordy was an infant—choosing to keep them tucked away in a large antique trunk in the attic as I was in most of them. Dad would’ve been infuriated if he had seen this photo displayed. It would have confirmed any suspicion that anyone had throughout those first few years. Was this mom’s way of telling us that she thought it was time for Cordy to know the truth? Did she feel guilty for the role she played? She knew; they both did, that Sam had no intention of leaving me, they robbed Cordy of the chance to know Sam, for us to raise her, together. Tears slide down my cheek, landing on the glass of the frame with a soft plop before I even realize that they’ve formed. 

I close the back of the frame, gingerly putting it back in its original place. I make my way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and take a few deep breaths as I pull myself back together. I grab the bag I packed for Cordy, and make for my car in the driveway. Just as I close the trunk of the car after placing Cordy’s bag inside, I’m surrounded by our neighbors. All of them offering sympathies and asking what the plan is after the funeral. I know they’re not trying to be rude or insensitive, but it takes every ounce of my willpower not to tell them all to fuck off. 

I accept their condolences and explain that I need to get back to Cordy in the hospital. I catch a side-glance between one couple and choose to ignore it. At this point, I don’t care what they think. I wait for them to retreat to their homes before starting my car and leaving. It’s nearly thirty minutes later when I pull into the hospital’s parking lot. 

I’m surprised when I walk by Cordy’s room, hearing the small TV playing softly, I notice she’s absent-mindedly drawing on a blank piece of paper. A sigh of relief leaves me when a nurse pulls me aside, informing me that Cordy had slept through the night. The faintest of smiles creeps across Cordy’s lips when I enter her room, setting her bag down in the empty chair, but she doesn’t say anything as I crawl back into the bed with her. She leans into me and tilts her head up, her hazel eyes scanning my face for a moment before turning her attention back to the page in front of her. Cordy has barely uttered a word since that first day. When I shared my concern with Dr. Marks during one of her daily check-ups, she explained that some children respond to traumatic incidents with voluntary muteness and that I should encourage, but not force Cordy to speak.

I watch Cordy thoughtfully as I keep playing scenarios in my head of how to tell her the truth. How do I explain that I’m not her sister, but her mom? Her whole world has been upended with the loss of mom and dad, and I don’t know how telling her will make anything better right now. Lacey’s card is still in the pocket of my jeans, and I make a mental note to call her once Cordy is discharged and well enough to know the truth. 

My thoughts drift to Sam; I haven’t seen him since I left him with Dean and Cas in the waiting room. Anger rises inside me as I recall everything he’d said the first day we arrived at the hospital, yet, he hasn’t made any attempt to see Cordy or me. In the back of my mind, I know it’s better this way; I can focus all my attention on Cordy, but it does little to lessen the sense of abandonment I feel. Cordy scrunches her face, attempting to put on a brave face and not cry when a nurse adjusts her ankle and arm.

“Ellie?” she whispers, and my heart stops, after nearly four days she was speaking. Tears fill her eyes as she looks up to meet mine. “What’s gonna happen now?”

I knew this question was coming, but it still sends a jolt of fear through me. I have been trying to come up with some kind of answer that will put her at ease, and won’t create more stress. It’s a loaded question, which will only trigger many more that I am not prepared to answer yet. She looks down at her lap as I struggle to speak.

“Am I gonna have to go live with that weird cousin dad always talks about?” Her voice cracks as she continues looking down. “The one you lived with before I was born?” 

“No,” I answer quickly. “No way. Why would you even think that?”

“Because I- I-. Dad said if I’m ever _really_ bad, I’d have to go live with her.” Shock and anger fill me; if I’d known dad had _ever_ said that to her, I would have put an end to all of this a long ago. I take a deep breath, calming myself; anger won’t do Cordy or me any good right now. I watch her closely as she picks at her thumbnail, afraid of what she might say next. “It’s- it’s my fault,” she sobs, “they’re gone, and it’s because of me.”

I quickly sit up being mindful of her injuries, “Cordelia Mary, look at me.” I gently grip her chin, making sure her focus is on me. “This was _not_ your fault; you hear me? It was an accident.”

“I was talking about Sammy and his brother, d-dad got really mad, he turned around-”

“Cordy, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Sometimes bad things happen. Things out of our control, whatever happened,” I had to put it in a way she would understand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.” I wrap my arms around her, “We can talk about it as much as you want to, and no matter what you tell me, I’m _never_ going to blame you. I love you so much, kid, and you have no idea how happy I am that you’re okay. If mom and dad were here, they’d tell you the same thing.”

Cordy nods hesitantly, she’s carrying so much guilt, and there isn’t much I can do to put her at ease. Her body relaxes against me, and she closes her eyes, drifting off as I gently stroke her hair. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. We could find a place for the two of us, and then I could tell her; we could start over. Just she and I, and maybe even Sam, if he wanted to. _Sam_. He had gotten out, gotten away from hunting; he had wanted to be a lawyer, live a _safe_ life. Yet here he is, back with his brother, still hunting. My heart and brain are at war with each other; this is our chance to be a family, and I want to tell him to stay here with us. But I can’t stand the idea of allowing him back into my life, _Cordy’s life_ , only for him to leave on a hunt and never come back. For her to have another father figure enter her life, only to lose him? I don’t think she’d ever be able to get over it.

A soft knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, Sam is standing in the doorway, and my heart flutters when he gives me a small smile. He takes a step into the room but quickly stops when I shake my head. The thought of him being in the same room as Cordy and I is a little unsettling. 

_‘Can we talk?’_ he whispers, eyes leaving me and landing on Cordy. I carefully remove my arms from around Cordy’s frame and slip off the bed. I nearly make it out of the room before she stirs.

“Ellie?” Her eyes barely open, “you’re not leaving, are you?”

“I’m just gonna be out in the hallway, okay? I’m not going anywhere” I thought about how Sam had said those exact words to me the night we met, and my chest tightens. “Go back to sleep, kid,” I walk back to her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “One four three, _”_ I say softly into her ear and turn back towards Sam, I can see the pain in his eyes, he wants to come in, but he is still a stranger to Cordy. 

“One four three?” Sam asks as he engulfs me into a hug. I can’t help but melt into him, as much as I’ve tried to deny it to myself, I’m still in love with him. “You told that firefighter to tell her ‘one four three.’” He pulls away and takes my hand, guiding us to a set of chairs a few feet away. I hesitate, not wanting to be too far away from Cordy’s room. “You can still see her,” he says as he sits. 

“It means ‘I love you.’” My eyes don’t leave Cordy’s room. “I started using it when she was younger. She liked it because it was a special thing between us.” I look away when I’m satisfied that she’s sleeping. “She likes hearing it when she’s scared or hurt.”

He brings his hand up, gently turning my face so that my focus is on him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, dark circles under his eyes and rumpled clothes hanging from his frame. “I wanted to visit sooner, but I didn’t want to intrude. When I realized that you weren’t in the waiting room anymore, I almost chased you down; Dean had to stop me. He made me realize that you and Cordy needed some time alone together.” 

“Thank you,” I breathe out. “But you didn’t have to stay away, Sam. You could’ve just been here with me. We may not be together anymore, but I still need you.” 

Sam gives me a soft smile and intertwines his fingers with mine. “How is she?”

“She’s doing okay, considering. She’s harboring a lot of guilt.” I peer back towards the room. “I guess she was talking about you and Dean, and dad lost control of the car. She thinks it's her fault, that if dad hadn’t gotten mad-” I shake the thought from my head.

I can see the question forming on his lips, but he doesn’t ask it. He sighs as I nestle myself into his side, his presence allowing me to relax for the first time in days. 

“I haven’t told her yet.” I break the silence between us, tilting my head up to look at him. Sam looks at me disappointed but nods as if he understands before focusing his attention on Cordy’s room. He may have only met her once, but I can see in his face that he loves her already. I understand the pain he must feel at almost losing her before he even got to know her. “It’s just—it’s too much for her right now.”

“It’s going to be difficult whenever you tell her, Ella.” There’s a bitterness in his tone that he’s trying to cover. “There’s no good way to tell her, and you said-”

“I know what I said, and I meant it, but Sam, it’s only been a few days. She’s still trying to understand that the people she believes to be her parents are gone.” I can tell that he wants to resurrect our unfinished fight about telling Cordy and try to forestall another argument. “ _You_ haven’t been here for the last few days, listening as she wakes up screaming. The _last_ thing she needs right now is for me to alter her world again by telling her that I’m her mom.”

“Ella, she should know where she comes from.” He stares at me like he’s daring me to say otherwise.

“I’m going to tell her.” I suck in a breath, trying to remain calm. “ _I am._ Let me take her home, where she’ll be more comfortable. Let me break one thing to her at a time,” I had thought this part over, and I knew it was going to be painful to say, “and _if_ she asks, I’ll tell her about you.”

“Ella, that’s not- She’s my kid too.” I know this isn’t what he wanted to hear, but I have to think about what is best for her. “I want to know her. I want her to know me. And Dean. And Cas. She needs to know that you’re not her only family.”

I push away from him to stand and pace in front of the row of chairs.“ _Sam_ , she’s ten. She just lost mom and dad.” I throw my hands up in the air. “Now I’m about to drop an even bigger bomb on her. She will need time to accept and process that information. If, or when, she decides that she wants to know more about her father,” I stop pacing to lock eyes with him, “ _then_ , and only then will we tell her.”

“Ella-“ His tone is gruff, but his eyes plead with me.

“No, Sam. I know what kind of life you and Dean lead, and I won’t have you coming and going whenever you please. Cordy needs stability; now more than ever. You, Dean, Cas, whoever he is, you can’t offer stability.”

“But we can offer protection. The two of you, you’ll be safe with us. There’s a place in Kansas, it’s become our home, our first _real_ home, and it’s one of the safest places in the world. I talked it over with Dean, and we want you to come with us, you and Cordy. Once Cordy is discharged, Cas can heal her. Then you can pack up whatever you’d like to bring, and we can head to the Bunker.”

“ _Bunker_? Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a place that we’ll get murdered in,” I scoff. “And _Cas_ , who I know nothing about by the way, how is he going to ‘heal’ Cordy? Why would I even let him touch her?”

“Because he’s-” Sam runs a hand through his hair as he appears to struggle with what he wants to say. I arch my eyebrow and tap my foot impatiently until he finally huffs, “Cas is an angel.”

“A _what_?” I choke out a laugh. Sam’s face remains stoic as I wait for him to give some indication that he’s joking. “Okay, obviously, I believe werewolves are real. And I know there’s a lot of things out there that I don’t know about. But, come on, an _angel?”_

“Ella, why would I make something like that up?” _He has a point._ “Cas can help her.”

“So what, you’re telling me you’ve got an angel at your beck and call?” 

“He’s family, Ella. Up until I saw you again and then found out about Cordy, he was the only family I had besides Dean. He can help”

I sigh, _okay Cas, if you’re an angel, prove it._

“My name is Castiel, and I am an Angel of the Lord,” Cas appears out of nowhere, making me yelp. “I can heal your daughter, Eliza.” 

“What the hell?” My eyes shift between Sam and Cas. “You can’t be serious,” I scoff.

“I can also erase her memories if you’d like me to,” Cas offers, taking a step towards me. “Replace them with something more pleasant.” 

“I--” _Angels are real? Does that mean there’s a God? A devil?_

“Yes,” Cas replies, _did I say that out loud?_ “No, Eliza.” 

“Cas,” Sam sighs. “We talked about you reading people’s thoughts.”

“Impolite, yes.” Cas brings his attention back to me. I’m silent as I try to make sense of what’s happening right now. “I apologize, Eliza. Please, consider my offer, all of it.”

“You get used to him,” he offers a weak smile. “Believe me, we couldn’t wrap our heads around all of it at first either. But Cas, he’s one of the good ones.” 

“There are _bad_ angels?” I take a few steps back and slump into the chair against the wall. “This is the kind of craziness I was just talking about, Sam. We don’t live in your world. Sure, Cordy happened to be right about the soul-eater, but honestly, we could have easily explained that away. What am I supposed to do? Go in there and tell her that a freaking angel is going to heal her? That we’re gonna go live in some bunker in Kansas?”

“Please Ella,” Sam stops me as I make my way back towards Cordy’s room. “I just got you back into my life; I don’t want to lose you again, lose her again.”

“Sam, if you don’t want to lose us, you won’t.” I bring my hand up, gently tucking his hair behind his ear. His cheeks pink at the gesture, dimples forming on both sides. “This isn’t going to be like when we were kids; no one can keep us apart." I rise to my toes, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “ _But,_ I can’t just pack her up and go. I told you she needs time, we both do.”

“Ella, please. Don’t keep me away from her.”

“Sam,” I pull away from him. “You were supposed to get out of this life. That’s what you told me when we first started dating. You wanted out, and yet, here you are, still hunting. Do you honestly want her to grow up like you did?”

Sam’s face hardens for a moment, and the look of hurt that washes over his face makes me feel a little guilty about bringing up the way he and Dean were raised, but I know it's the only way to make him understand. His brow furrows, and he briefly closes his eyes. He inhales deeply, then opens his eyes and nods in understanding. “Can I at least see her?”

Before I can answer, a cry comes from Cordy’s room. “Ellie!” I rush back in to find her face is covered in red blotches, and her eyes bloodshot as she calls out again. “Ellie!”

“I’m here, kid,” I say, returning to the bed and climbing in. I run my hands through her hair, “you’re okay.” I hold her against me, letting her cry into me as I do my best to calm her down. A throat clearing brings my attention back to the doorway. Sam stands there silently, waiting for me to give him the okay to enter the room. Cordy turns her head, and Sam smiles warmly at her.

“It’s Sammy,” she says, barely above a whisper. “What’s he doing here?”

“He-” I struggle to come up with an explanation as to why Sam would be visiting her. 

“I just wanted to let you know that my brother and me, we got the soul-eater.” He moves forward but doesn’t enter the room. “We thought we should tell you since you had it figured out.” 

“I was right?” Her face lights up at Sam’s statement. He nods, his eyes sparkling as she lets out a giggle. Cordy turns to me, eyes shining with excitement. “I was right, Ellie!” 

“You sure were Cordy, if it weren’t for you, it would probably have hurt another kid,” his eyes meet mine, and he silently asks for permission to come in. My lips form a tight smile and I nod. He really isn’t giving me much of an option at this point. He closes the space between us, taking a seat in the empty chair next to Cordy’s bed. “You’re a smart little girl.”

We all sit there and talk for hours. Sam tells fantastical stories about his work, and Cordy loves every minute of it. Watching Cordy bond with Sam even though she doesn’t know who he is, makes me want to tell her even more, but I know I can’t, not yet. I bite my tongue, letting the three of us have this brief moment of bliss, knowing it can’t last. She tells Sam all about her friends and school, happily chattering as he listens intently. 

It’s late in the afternoon when Dr. Marks brings in Cordy’s discharge papers. I step out of the room with her to sign the papers and discuss Cordy’s condition. As I stand just outside the doorway, I catch sight of Sam pulling out his phone and texting someone before focusing his attention back on Cordy, hanging on her every word. I sigh, knowing it’s going to make it that much more difficult when we have to say goodbye.

“...about 6 weeks,” Dr. Marks’ voice pulls me out of my head. “She’ll still probably need to wear a walking cast for a month after that, same with her arm. Your daughter is a strong little girl, Ellie.” 

“What about the nightmares?” My eyes drift back to Cordy and Sam, their muffled laughter escaping the room. “Every time she falls asleep, she wakes up thrashing and screaming.”

“Nightmares are a normal response, if the nightmares don’t lessen in the upcoming weeks, we may need to refer her to a child psychologist.” I nod and turn myself to face her. “She’s going to have good days and bad days, Ellie. Today seems like a good one.”

I softly chuckle as she peers into the room. “She started talking a few hours ago, and now she doesn’t want to stop.”

“That’s good, Ellie. Let her talk as much as she wants, about the accident, about your parents, let her know that everything she’s feeling is normal. But you know what she really needs right now, Ellie? You. She needs her mom.”

“I haven’t- she doesn’t know. And I know I need to tell her, I’m going to, but this doesn’t seem like the right time…” I trail off, finally making eye contact with her. “I feel like all it will do is make things worse for her, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“You have your reasons for doing what you did. But Cordelia needs a steady support system right now, and that man, who’s been in the waiting room for the last four days?” She glances back towards Cordy’s room, “and the couple he was with,” _did she just refer to Dean and Cas as a_ couple? “They all seem to be very concerned for her well-being as well. Those are the kind of people she needs.”

“They travel a lot, all over the country. Barely in one place for a week at a time,” I say, not just trying to convince her, but myself as well. “I wouldn’t exactly call that _stable_.” I look and see Cordy gesturing wildly, and Sam’s mouth agape. He’s in love. I smile at the two of them as Dr. Marks pulls my attention back to her. “Thank you so much, Dr. Marks, for everything _,_ I know it wasn’t easy for the staff to keep my situation under wraps, but you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Ellie. A nurse will be in shortly to go over home-care instructions, and you’ll be able to take Cordelia home.” Her eyes dart into Cordy’s room. “Don’t let the big guy get away.” She pats my shoulder and then winks playfully before leaving. 

I walk in as Sam slides a piece of paper over to Cordy. Both of them giggling. There are five or six symbols on it that I don’t recognize as Cordy folds the paper in half, hiding it under the covers.

“What was that?” I ask, looking between the two. 

“Nothing!” Cordy and Sam say together, laughing.

“I was just telling Corie how to keep the ghosts out.” I raise my eyebrow at the use of _Corie_. “Remember, Corie, salt circle, and you’ll be safe,” he winks playfully at her.

“Ms. Jameson?” A nurse appears, and gestures for me to join her. I clear my throat, briefly gathering Sam’s attention, and he keeps Cordy distracted with a story on how he once fought a ghost on a movie set. The nurse tells me that Cordy will need to use crutches until she’s fitted for a walking boot, handing over a list of different places I can get them. Cordy’s face lights up as Sam continues with his story. We talk for a few minutes as she confirms that I understand Cordy’s limitations while her body heals. The nurse disappears briefly as I take the papers handed to me and make a mental note to read through them all more thoroughly once Cordy and I get home. The nurse returns with a wheelchair, helping Cordy into it as Sam tucks the papers into her bag. Sam wheels her out once she’s safely seated, playfully stopping and starting down the hallway until we reach the elevator.

When we arrive in the lobby, Dean and Cas are bickering about something, and Sam rolls his eyes at the two before clearing his throat, grabbing their attention. I shoot Sam a questioning look, he shrugs his shoulders, and an embarrassed chuckle leaves him. It seems as though they’ve raided the hospital’s gift shop, an overstuffed teddy bear with a heart attached in Cas’ arms. Dean has a bouquet in one hand and a large basket in the other, filled with boxes of candy, junk food, and small toys.

“Corie,” Sam says as Dean and Cas take a step closer to us. “This is my brother Dean. Do you remember him?” She nods her head hesitantly, Sam crouches down, meeting her eye level. “We’ll all get to know each other better later.” He glances up at me, and I can feel the heat rising in my face, _did he not hear a single word I said before?_

“Hey there, Princess,” Dean says, a broad grin appearing on his face. “I hope you like jerky,” he laughs, and it gives me the distraction I need to keep my composure. “I can’t wait to get to know my n-”

“ _Dean,_ ” Cas places his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Hello, Cordelia, my name is Castiel. We are delighted to finally meet you.”

“Hi.” She turns her attention to Cas, softly laughing as he hands the teddy bear to her. “Sammy said you have the best hearing in the world, is that true?”

“It is, Cordelia,” he states matter-of-factly. "No matter where you are if you say my name, I can hear you." 

“Okay, I think that’s enough new people for one day,” I say, stepping between Cordy and the three men. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

I point Sam towards the parking lot, listening as Cordy chatters away. Dean and Cas keep a few steps behind, quietly talking between themselves. 

“How about I drive you home?” Sam asks as we walk up to my car. 

“Thanks, but my apartment is just off campus.” He frowns slightly and looks at me with his large puppy dog eyes, blue and green swirls filled with disappointment. _Damn it._ “If you want, you can follow me? I might need some help getting Cordy upstairs.”

Sam’s face lights up as he excitedly nods. Sam picks her up as I open the door, sliding her into the back seat. Dean opens the passenger side door, and places the basket in the seat next to Cordy, then takes her bag from me and puts it in the trunk. Cas tucks the bear in next to her and whispers something in her ear, causing a broad grin to form as she nods. I climb into the front seat, waiting for Sam, Dean, and Cas, to walk back towards the Impala. 

“ _Corie?_ ” I ask, looking at her through the rearview mirror as we pull out of the parking space. I wait for the Impala to come into view before exiting the lot.

“Sammy asked if he could have a special name for me. He said that he had a special name for you too. Why did you ever break up with him?”

“That’s a long story, kid. And it happened a really long time ago. What else did Sam say to you?”

“Nothin’,” she laughs.

I arch an eyebrow; it’s almost like she’s back to her usual self. I spot the Impala a few cars behind us, and I dread what’s coming in the next few days. Sam and Dean never stay anywhere long, and Cordy had already latched onto Sam. I’m afraid of what’s gonna happen when they leave. If she’s taken to him as a virtual stranger, how will she feel when she finds out he’s her dad?

“All right then, keep your secrets.” 


	10. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella brings Cordy home, Dean fills in some blanks about Sam's past.
> 
> THERE BE SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER!

“We’re gonna stay at my apartment for the next couple of days, okay, kid?” I ask as my apartment building comes into view. I glance at the side mirror, grateful that Dean is keeping a little distance behind us. I turn the corner to enter the parking lot; I’ve always hated this turn, overgrown bushes making it nearly impossible to see anything on the other side. It’s supposed to be a one-way road, but many of the residents ignored the unspoken rule. 

I glance into the mirror again, seeing the Impala make the same turn, turning my gaze to Cordy for a moment, unsure how she’ll feel about not going back to mom and dad’s place. Before she can answer, the sharp blare of a car horn brings my attention forward. Another car is right for us, and I have to slam on my brakes to keep our vehicles from colliding.

“Shit!” The other car maneuvers around us, and the driver incoherently shouts at me as he passes. My heart is pounding in my chest as I pull into a parking space, my body works faster than my mind as I scramble out of the car and fling the back door open. My heart breaks at the sight before me. Cordy’s clinging to the teddy bear Cas had given her, breathing heavily, tears streaming down her terror-stricken face. 

“Hey, Cordy? Look at me,” I say, reaching in to unbuckle her seatbelt. “You’re okay. I’m okay. Nothing bad happened,” Her eyes stay shut, and she grips the bear tighter, shaking her head. “Look at me, Cordy, please,” I beg as I fight against my own tears. I _should’ve been paying attention to the road._ Her eyes open, bloodshot, and full of tears, her lips quivering as she chokes back a sob. “It’s okay,” I say as I run my hands through her hair, and she lets go, crying out for mom. 

“Are you okay?” Sam's voice fills the air as I pull Cordy close to me, letting her head rest on my shoulder as she weeps. I glance up and can see all three men standing on the other side of the car. “Ella?” Sam asks as I slide into the back seat and pull Cordy into my arms, letting her cry into my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam crouch down to look into the back seat, unsure of what to do as I try to console Cordy. “Ella?” 

I shake my head in response, not ready to speak to him; my sole focus is on calming Cordy, softly singing to her as I feel her body relax against mine. The shuffling of boots on the concrete tells me he’s moved back to Dean and Cas, their muffled voices confirming it. Once Cordy’s breathing has returned to normal, I exit the car swiftly, knowing the sooner I can get her up to my apartment, the better. Before I even realize it, Sam is at my side, gently grabbing my arm, turning my attention on him. 

“Talk to me,” he pleads.

“It’s okay,” I say, not sure who I’m trying to convince. “We’re okay, right, Cordy?” Sam’s eyebrows furrow as he takes in my appearance, I’m fighting a losing battle with my emotions, a breakdown eminent. Against my will, tears begin to stream down my face. I want to fall into his arms, but I can’t, not now, I have to put Cordy’s well-being above my own. 

His hand comes up, and he gently caresses my cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly. 

I shake my head, turning my attention back on Cordy; she’s frozen, terrified. I try lifting her out, but the cast on her leg makes it difficult. “Can Sam help you out?” I whisper, and she nods hesitantly. I move back towards Sam. “Will you get her out, please?”

“Of course,” Sam leans down and gingerly lifts Cordy out of the back seat. She buries her head against him as he cradles her in his arms, still clinging to the bear. Sam stands there for a moment, not sure of where he’s supposed to be going. 

“Sam’s gonna take you up to my apartment,” I tell Cordy as I guide him towards the building. Without looking, I know Dean and Cas are only a few steps behind us. “Do you remember which one it is, Cordy?” She shakes her head against Sam’s chest. “That’s okay, it’s number 219,” I say, handing Sam my keys. “Can you help Sam if he forgets? You know how boys don’t like to listen.” I laugh weakly, and Cordy nuzzles her body further into Sam. “Cordy, look at me, please, kid.” I wait for her head to lift away from Sam’s chest, and I press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so much.” I look up, and Sam’s eyes meet mine, nodding slightly.

As Sam enters the breezeway, I feel my legs give out from beneath me, but Dean is there to catch me and helps me to a bench a few feet away. 

“Make sure she’s okay,” Dean turns to Cas, who looks at him confused. He makes his way towards us before Dean stops him. “ _Cordy_ , Cas.” He rolls his eyes before crouching down so that he is at my eye level. “Ellie’s fine, right?” Dean’s eyes lock on mine, and I nod. “Tell Sam we’ll be up in a few minutes,” Dean says, directing Cas away from us, “and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Ellie, what happened?” Dean asks, emerald eyes studying my face.

“That c-car it-it was going the wrong way; I-I had to slam on the brakes, so I didn’t hit them.” I let the tears I’d been holding back fall freely. “Fuck! I’m such a fucking screw-up!"

“No, Ellie.” Dean takes a seat on the bench next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “How were you supposed to know that something like that would happen?”

“I just looked away for a second,” I sob. “If that car hadn’t honked-”

“Shh, it’s okay.” His hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You said it yourself. She’s okay. You’re both okay.” His voice is calm, and it grounds me. “Breathe. She’s got one of the strongest people I’ve ever met with her, and Sam,” he says, making me laugh. “There you go. Seriously, you think Sam’s overprotective? You should see Cas. Dude can get crazy when someone threatens someone he cares about. I could tell you some stories about the things he’s done for Sam and me.”

I smile again. This Dean is so different from the one I met all those years ago. His entire demeanor is different; he looks so much more like John, years of pain, and stress etched in his face. 

“Sam really never told you?” I ask, breaking the silence that had settled between us. “About me, the baby?”

“No.” He clasps his hands together and looks down at them. “I should’ve put it together when I saw how you reacted to us back at Joe’s. I figured at least part of the fight he had with dad was about you, but dad refused to talk about it and Sam. It really hurt me when Sam left, and I was pissed at him for a long time. When he started hunting again, we just kinda avoided the topic as much as we could.” 

“Why?” Dean scoffs; even after all these years, it still clearly upsets him. 

“It was bad, Ellie. They fought constantly, got into each other's faces, a push here, or a shove there. Normally I could calm them down, play peacekeeper. But that night, they were throwing punches, and even after I stepped in, they were still going at it.” Dean sighs, running his free hand through the scruff forming on his face. 

“Sam and I went out to a bar, and when we got back in the morning, they started going at it again. They both said some fucked up shit to each other, and dad told Sam if he left, not to bother coming back. Sam just walked out the door and left me there.” He takes a deep breath. “Dad and I figured he’d come back after a couple of months, but he went silent. I left him alone for a couple of years, but then dad went missing, and I needed Sam’s help finding him. When I tracked him down, he was living with this girl, Jessica-” he pauses, realizing what he had just said.

A twinge of jealousy fills me, but I push it down. We’d been separated for the better part of two years; Sam had a right to move on. 

“Anyway, I pulled him to work a case with me, no actual news on dad though, surprise, surprise. When we came back, Jessica-” He stops again at the mention of her name. A look of guilt washes over him, and I wonder what he has to feel guilty about. “When we finally caught up with dad, we got into this car accident; it almost did me in. Dad, stupid son of bitch, made a deal; my life for his.” 

When John stopped coming around, a part of me always hoped that it wasn’t permanent, that maybe the sketchy way they lived hadn’t finally caught up to them, but when I stopped receiving letters, I figured he must’ve died. 

“I think dad was trying to mend everything, but Sammy couldn’t let it go. Picked a fight with dad the day he died, and I know it still bothers him.”

“The last thing John and Sam did was fight?” I know how that feels, my own guilt eating me up inside as well. “John always made it seem like he kept in contact with Sam. He talked about him constantly, giving me updates-”

“What?” Dean looks at me, confused. “He kept in contact with you?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “After I found out I was pregnant, my parents shipped me to live in South Dakota until the baby was born. John told me to call him if I ever needed anything, and he started sending me letters with cash in them, said he wanted to help out as much as he could. He said he knew some hunter nearby and had asked him to keep an eye on me.” Dean’s eyes go wide, and I can practically see him swallowing down his anger. “John visited me a few times while I was pregnant, he even-” I pause, not sure how Dean’s going to react, “he met her. Came to see us right after she was born, took one look at Cordy, and fell in love.” I smile, thinking back on the memory of John holding the small bundle in his arms. “He saw her four or five more times before we stopped hearing from him. Dad figured he was in jail or something because I was still getting envelopes full of cash, but they stopped about a year ago.”

Dean’s face grows crimson, and his jaw clenches. “Bastard.” I watch with confusion as Dean furiously pushes off the bench and paces in front of me. He’s mumbling under his breath, and I can’t quite make out anything he’s saying. 

“Why would he keep in contact with me, and not tell you or Sam?” I ask as Dean slows his stride. “Why would he lie to everyone?” 

“It was his fucked-up way of keeping everyone safe,” Dean scoffs. “He must’ve figured if we didn’t claim the baby as a Winchester, all the evil shit that we fight could never use her or you to their advantage.” He throws his hands in the air, then runs them through his hair. He exhales deeply before turning his attention back to me. “Have you told Sam?”

I shake my head.

“Good.” He sits back down next to me. “Don’t tell him, not now, at least. Just wait until things are better.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sam’s not exactly in a good place right now,” Dean huffs. “Dad was probably doing what he thought was best, but he didn’t always go about the best way of doing it. The fact that dad kept in contact with you, supported you, and even met Cordy, while lying to him,” Dean shakes his head, “Sam won’t be able to forgive that, and it will destroy him.”

“I don’t want to lie to him, Dean. There’s been too much of that already.”

“You’re not lying. You’re just... not telling him this. Please Ellie, don’t say anything about dad.” I nod reluctantly. “Thank you.”

“Cordelia is sleeping,” Cas appears from the breezeway and approaches Dean and me, “I have healed her arm and leg.”

“Cas,” Dean stands up, meeting Cas a few feet away. “You were supposed to wait.”

“I should not have healed her injuries?” Cas seems confused by Dean’s statement, “but you said-”

Dean gives me a tight-lipped smile before grabbing Cas by the arm and turning them both so that they are no longer facing me. Dean lowers his voice, and I can no longer hear what either of them is saying. Dean and Cas each look back at me at some point, before continuing the conversation. Annoyed that they refuse to talk to me while clearly talking about Cordy and me, I carefully get off the bench, and move closer to them. As I enter the space behind them, they are seemingly unaware that I’m behind them.

“We didn’t discuss-” Dean says sternly.

“What exactly _did_ you discuss?” I speak up, Dean and Cas turn around to face me, Dean lets out a nervous laugh.

“There’s no reason that- Cordy’s a Winchester, and she shouldn’t have to be in casts for the few months.” 

“So, _you_ decided to make that decision without talking to me first?” I can feel the heat pooling in my cheeks. “You don’t think I deserve a say in whatever he did?” Cas’ face remains indifferent, but Dean looks away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “My parents’ funeral is in two days. How am I supposed to explain miraculously disappearing injuries?” Dean tries to stammer out an answer, and it only fuels my growing anger. “Better yet, how do _you_ suggest I explain this to Cordy, Dean?”

“Eliza, if I may,” Cas steps forward as Dean struggles to answer me. “Sam and Dean were only trying to help. As I said at the hospital, I can change Cordelia’s memories, that is, if you’d like me to.” 

“I don’t know,” I mumble, moving back towards the bench, trying to calm myself as I pace. 

Cas nods and stops Dean from joining me. Both men keep their distance as I argue with myself about what I should do. I glance up occasionally, catching the glimpses between them, seemingly having a silent conversation. 

“Yeah, okay,” I say, and Dean takes a couple of steps closer, Cas directly beside him. “She won’t understand, _fuck_ , I barely do.”

“You’re sure?” Dean asks, and I shrug my shoulders.

“I mean, you haven’t really given me much of a choice at this point,” I snap, scowling at both Dean and Cas. 

“I will wait for you upstairs, Eliza.” Cas walks back towards the entrance of my building, disappearing into the breezeway. 

_“Winchesters,”_ I mumble underneath my breath. I want to scream at Dean; how could he have thought it would be okay to do something like that without talking to me first? _He thought he was helping_. I sigh, trying to let go of my anger. “You get why I’m pissed, right?”

“I’m not gonna apologize for asking Cas to heal Cordy, Ellie.” Dean takes another step forward, the tension in his muscles ease as he sits down on the bench. “She’s family. You both are.” 

“Dean, Cordy doesn’t know about any of this,” I huff. “I appreciate that you and Sam want to have us in your lives, but she’s just a little girl. I don’t even know when I'm gonna tell her everything, and unless she asks, I’m not gonna tell her about Sam.” I can tell that Dean’s preparing to argue, to try and talk me out of my decision for Sam’s sake and add, “It’s about what’s best for Cordy. Not Sam.” 

Dean nods hesitantly, but his face is like an open book. I see everything he wants to say, in the tick of his jaw and the way his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“What’s the deal with you and Cas?” I ask, needing to find a way to distract myself from the anger still coursing through my veins before I go upstairs. “I’m definitely picking up on something."

“Deal?” Dean lets out an uncomfortable laugh and his face flushes. “There’s no _deal_. We’re buds. Why? He’s family. He’s like a brother.”

“Yeah, well,” my body relaxes as Dean becomes fidgety. “I’ve never seen you and Sam look at each other like how he looks at you.”

Dean tries to stammer out a response, only to grow more flustered, and I can’t contain the laughter that comes roaring out of my body. He looks up and opens his mouth to speak, only to join me in a burst of nervous laughter. 

“I’m glad you find my love life amusing,” he grumbles.

“You should just go for it,” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Tell him to blink if he wants you,” I tease. “Or maybe ask if it hurt when he fell from heaven, since, you know, _angel._ ” 

“Ha, ha, funny.” Dean rolls his eyes playfully. “You’d better get upstairs, Sammy’s probably losing his shit, especially if Cas told him how pissed you were.” 

“Sam’s probably gonna insist on staying here tonight,” I point out as we walk towards the breezeway. “So, you will have that room all to yourselves.” I flash him a wink, and he pulls me into a hug before I make my way up the stairs.

Sam and Cas are standing in my living room when I enter my apartment, and I head straight to my bedroom. I stand in the doorway of my room, peering in to see Cordy’s sleeping figure, a sigh of relief leaving me. I can feel Sam’s chest against my back as he wraps his arms around me, and Cas makes his way into my room.

“Just change the broken bones part, okay? _Nothing else_.” Cas nods, placing two fingers on her forehead, a slight glow emitting from them. 

“Ella,” Sam turns me around to face him. “Cas can _put in_ memories as well.” There's a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, waiting to see how I react to his suggestion. “We could even-” 

“ _No.”_ I step backward, releasing myself from his arms. “That’s not how we’re going to do this.” 

“Cordelia will wake in the morning,” Cas interrupts as he leaves my room. “She will remember the accident, but will believe that she was uninjured.”

Sam thanks Cas, and he heads for my front door. 

“Wait,” I say, stopping him before he exits. “Thank you.” I place a kiss on his cheek.

“All I was saying Ella, is that Cas could-” Sam argues before I’ve shut the door.

“I know what you wanted Cas to do. And if I find out you have told him to add anything in there without my knowledge, I will make good on my promise.” I hate having to remind him of my threat to take Cordy and disappear, but I know it is the only way to get through to him. 

“I know you want Cordy to know who you are, but honestly, Sam? You’re reminding me of your dad in the worst possible way. He manipulated both of us. He thought he was doing what was best, but he went about it in an absolutely horrible fucked-up way. And look where we are now. Our daughter is in there, and she has no idea that we are her parents. I told you we are going to do this my way, or not at all.”

“What if Corie doesn’t want me as her dad?” he asks, sitting down on my couch. “She may not ever accept me into her life.”

“Then that’s Cordy’s choice, Sam, but I can tell you, she’ll never hate you. I’ve never seen her open up to anyone like the way she did with you today.” I take a seat next to him. “She might be pissed, but when we tell her the whole story, she’ll understand.”

“You think she’ll understand all of her grandparents working together to keep us apart?” Bitterness and anger taint his voice. 

“I don’t know.” I pull his hand into mine, gently squeezing it as his eyes focus on my bedroom. “But there isn’t anything we can do about that. You’re here now, and if she wants to know your side of the story, you can tell her.” 

Sam smiles, hope washing over his face at the notion of getting to know Cordy as her father. 

“How’re you doing? I would’ve stayed with you, but I thought it would be better to stay with Corie.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Dean helped calm me down, filled in some blanks.” 

“You don’t need Dean to answer questions, Ella. I’ll answer anything you want me to.”

“Who’s Jessica?” I ask brazenly. Sam’s eyes go wide at my question, and his whole body stiffens. He looks away from me and fidgets with his hands. Whatever questions he was expecting, this clearly is not one of them. 

He gapes in surprise, before letting out a heavy sigh. “Dean told you about Jessica?” 

“He said that you two lived together.” Sam hunches his shoulders, and I can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “It’s okay that you moved on, we weren’t together anymore.” As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t be angry with him for starting a new life. “I’m sorry I brought it up. It’s really none of my business.”

“A friend introduced us,” he murmurs before clearing his throat and looking at me. “She was- she was everything I needed. She was supportive and loving; she reminded me so much of you. Those first couple months I was at Stanford, I was barely functioning. I was constantly drinking, and she was the first one to get me to open up. One night, as I’m drinking myself into a freaking coma, I broke down and told her about you and the baby. It was almost therapeutic; she helped me. Ella, I hate how this’ll sound, but she helped me move on from you.

“She told me that it was okay to think about you and the baby, even though I didn’t think there was a baby anymore. Jess-" He stutters at the mention of her name, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing. “She understood that you would always hold a place within me, and she never challenged it. It tore me apart, y’ know? I still loved you, but I started having feelings for her as well. She helped me get my life back together; she kinda kicked my ass.” He smirks. “She was tough as shit, and I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with her. We were living together for about a year when Dean tracked me down. When Dean and I got back, something was off.” Sam takes a shaky breath. “I had just settled on the bed and the demon killed her in front of me.

“Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, gently squeezing his hand.

“The worst part was, for weeks, I had dreams of her death, and when it happened... I just- I was going to ask her to marry me, started looking at rings, and I didn’t ever get to tell her-” A constrained sob escapes his lips and my heart breaks for him. 

“Sam, there was no way you could’ve known that was gonna happen.” I push his hair away from his face revealing tear stains on his cheeks. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop it. I know you, if you truly thought something was going to happen to her, you would’ve done everything you could to stop it. It’s not your fault she died, Sam.” I lean in, hesitantly pressing my lips against his. Our kisses are soft at first, using them to find comfort in each other. The longer we sit there, the more desperate we become. 

Sam brings his hand to the back of my neck, pulling me into his lap, my knees falling to either side of his thighs, and he deepens the kiss. There’s an eagerness coming from him now, and he bites my lip playfully. I groan as he kisses me harder, and wraps his arms around me. My hands glide up his back, feeling his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he tightens his grip around me. We break apart, panting, resting our foreheads against each other, and before I can speak, his lips are on mine again, taking my breath away. Sam’s hands roam my body, one playfully tugging at the bottom of my shirt, while the other makes its way into my hair. I feel his tongue on my lips, and I open my mouth to let it in. I slightly roll hips, and I can feel the smirk playing on his lips. Sam moves his hand from my shirt onto my waist, encouraging me to grind harder against him. 

An animalistic groan falls from his lips, I tug off my shirt, and throw it onto the ground. Sam’s hands are immediately on me, pawing at my breasts, leaning forwards to place wet kisses on them as he makes his way back up to my neck. Sam rids me of my bra and takes a nipple into his mouth, and I can’t help the gasping moan that leaves my lips. He pulls away moments later, just long enough for me to grip the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. I gently trace the outline of the tattoo that graces his chest, making a mental note to ask him about it later, before returning my mouth to his.

Sam brings a hand down and fiddles with the top button on my jeans, almost as if he’s waiting for me to tell him to stop. He briefly breaks away from me, looking deep into my eyes, silently asking the question, and I nod. He encourages me to stand up as he hooks a finger in them and pulls them down. I step out of them, giggling as I almost trip over myself, and he guides me back onto his lap, returning his lips to mine. His hand grips my thigh, briefly kneading the flesh, before trailing upward, fingers ghosting over my covered slit. He rubs me through the cloth, sending a shudder of pleasure through my body.

He moves my panties to the side and dips one finger into my growing slick, slowly begins moving it back and forth through my folds. I grip his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin, and whine his name.

"Been thinkin' 'bout this since I saw you at _Joe's."_ He whispers, pushing his finger into my wet heat. "Wanted to take you right there. Make you scream my name." _God, that_ _mouth of his._ Another finger teases at my entrance, making me squirm. Sam's deep chuckle as he slips it in causes me to clench around him. "Show everyone what a dirty girl you can be." He places open-mouthed kisses along my neck, growling as he bites into the tender flesh. "Their sweet, perfect little Eliza.” He buries his fingers inside me, curling them to brush over that sweet spot, as he continues to rile me up with his words. “Just can't get enough, can you?' Sam begins to pump his fingers faster, and his eyes narrow as he watches my face contorting in pleasure. "Love watchin' you fall apart."

“Fuck,” I moan, feeling the warmth building. “Sam, please.”

“Please, _what_ , Ella?” He slowly pulls his hand away, thumb rubbing circles around my clit. A whimper leaves me as his fingers enter at an agonizingly slow pace. I grip his shoulders tighter, trying to steady myself as he rips my panties off. He leans me back against the arm of the couch, slotting his legs between my thighs. Sam slides his hand around to cup the back of my neck, fingers pressing my head forward, forcing me to watch his fingers disappear to my weeping hole. "Look how good you're taking me, can't wait to get my cock in this tight little pussy."

“I need-” I whimper. Sam leans in, tongue teasing my nipple as he palms the other breast, slowly sucking it into his mouth before giving it a rough nip with his teeth. I yelp and feel him smile against my skin.

“What do you need, baby?”

“More.”

Sam inches back, stretching out his body. He places his hands on the armrest, caging me between them as he hovers over me, and the corners of his mouth twitch as his eyes roam my flushed skin. 

“I gotcha.” He drops his head, and his lips and tongue leave a heated path as he moves down my body. When he reaches the juncture of my hip and thigh, he bites into the soft flesh. My body jerks, and a hand lands on the back of his head, fingers twisting into his hair. Sam growls low in his chest, and I feel the vibrations race across my skin. 

Calloused fingers grasp my hips, and he tugs at my body, wedging his shoulders between my thighs and maneuvering my legs over his shoulders. When his nose nudges at my clit, my fingers fist in his hair, and I tug. Sam hums in response, and I buck my hips.

His thumb brushes over my sensitive bundle of nerves as he slips two fingers back inside me. I shudder at the sensation, warmth spreading through my body as the heat builds in my core. He repeats the action, fingers moving agonizingly slow as he licks along my folds. I squirm as he continues to tease me, building me closer to an orgasm. “More,” I whine. “ _Please_ , Sam, I need more.”

“Gotta be quiet, Ella,” he brings his mouth to my ear, biting it gently. A deliciously evil smile forming on his lips, he would do this when we were teens; sneak into my room, and I’d have to keep my face buried in a pillow to conceal my screams while he’d fuck me relentlessly. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to go,” Sam taunts, whispering in my ear. “I'd hate to leave before I can get my cock in you and fill you up. You want that, don’t you, Ella? Want me to stretch out your tight little pussy and fill you with my cum?” 

I’m lost in pleasure, his fingers curling and scissoring inside me, pumping faster with each thrust. His other hand grips a handful of my hair, yanking my head back and pulling my attention to his face. “I need to know, Ella. Can you be quiet?” The deep rasp of his voice and the lust-filled glare he gives me, has me clenching around his fingers. I nod, biting my lip.

He roughly tugs my hair, sending a pleasurable jolt of pain through me. “Use your words.”

“Y- yes. I- I’ll be quiet.”

“Good girl.” I gasp as the heel of his palm brushes against my clit. “So fucking tight.”

“Fuck, Sam, don’t stop,” I whisper, rocking my hips back and forth, desperate for more friction. "I'm gonna--" 

“That’s it,” he lowers his face next to mine, “fuck yourself on my fingers. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.”

My toes begin to curl, and his fingers move faster and deeper in me as he whispers filthy words of encouragement in my ear. “Oh _fuck_ Sam, right there,” I whimper, warmth pooling in my belly. Sam releases my hair and removes his fingers. I groan at the loss as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean. _Jesus Fucking Christ._

He smirks before returning them to my soaking folds. This time he adds a third finger and sets a devastating pace. I press my lips together, trying to hold back the moan building in my throat. It’s been too long since I’ve been touched like this. I can feel the coil tightening, pleasure coursing through my veins, as he pulls me closer to him.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, bringing his thumb back to my bundle of nerves, rubbing it as I feel the coil snapping. “ _Cum_.” It’s all I need to send my orgasm crashing through me. I close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from screaming. I let out a long breath, opening my eyes to meet Sam’s, smiling as I press my forehead against his. “Fuck, Ella. Do you know what you do to me?”

“I have an idea,” I smile, looking down at the bulge straining against his jeans. “You're wearing too much,” I giggle, working my hands down his body. He moans as I palm him through his jeans, reaching into them and giving him a playful tug. I move off the couch, allowing him to stretch out his long legs.

Nudging between his knees, I lean down and pop the button on his jeans. Sam grunts when my fingers brush against him as I slowly drag the zipper down. He lifts his hips, allowing me to pull them down past his thighs, along with his boxers. I take his cock in my hands, pumping it a few times before lowering my mouth and placing a kiss on its swollen head. Fingers slide into my hair, his palm pressed against my cheek as I slowly take him in. When Sam moans, I look up through my lashes to see him transfixed on me, the greens and blues almost non-existent through his lust-blown pupils.

"Oh, fuck, Ella," I’d forgotten just how big he is, and I hollow my cheeks to take him as deep as I can. Sam’s hand moves to the back of my head, and he encourages me to move faster. “Such a good girl, takin’ me so deep.” I release him with a pop and smile at his praise. I step back, sliding his jeans and boxers completely off, then place my hands on his thighs to keep myself balanced as I take him in my mouth again. Sam moans and whispers praises as I feel him twitch in my mouth. “If you keep that up, I’m gonna cum, and I’d rather it be in that pretty little pussy of yours.” Grasping a handful of hair, he pulls me off of him, bringing my face to his and kissing me hard. “Gotta be inside you,” he moans, “c’ mere.” 

His rough fingers dent into the flesh at my hips, manhandling me until I’m straddling his lap. I hover over him, slowly pumping him as I tease him, guiding him into my aching pussy. Placing his blunt tip at my entrance, I sink down slowly, feeling a pleasurable burn as I stretch to accommodate him. 

“ _Fuck._ ” Sam whimpers as I slowly rock back and forth. _He’s not the only one who can tease_. 

“I missed your cock, filling me up, stretching me out.” Sam groans as the words leave me. “Love how deep I can feel you.” My hands rest on his chest, and I grip at his pecs, nails digging into his flesh with each thrust of his hips. “Don’t ever wanna stop riding you,” I lean my weight into him to hold him in place, slowly rolling my hips as Sam’s hands grip my waist. I leave a trail of kisses from his chest to his neck, where I suck hard enough to leave a bruise just above his collarbone, all the while keeping my slow pace, driving him crazy. 

“For every mark, you leave, I’m gonna leave two,” Sam whispers in my ear. I giggle, my mouth moving back down his chest, leaving kisses in my wake. "Make sure everyone knows who you belong to." His hands slide from my waist to my ass, encouraging me to move faster. “You're so tight, Ella,” Sam moans, guiding my movements, lifting me before tugging me back down until I’m fully seated. I can feel my orgasm building, and I reach down to slowly rub circles around my bundle of nerves. When Sam catches sight of me, he grips my wrist and pulls my hand away, a cry of frustration leaving me before he replaces it with his own. 

“I decide when you cum, baby,” Sam brushes his thumb over my clit, increasing the pressure with each pass. “Do you wanna cum, Ella?” Sam slows the movement of his hips, making me mewl in frustration. "Tell me how bad you want it." 

“Sam, please, I’m so close,” I whine. He pulls me to him, holding me against his chest as he picks up the pace, burying himself deep as I meet each thrust. My walls begin to tighten around him, and he claims my mouth with his, pushing me over the edge and working me through my orgasm.

“Love those pretty little sounds you make when you’re taking my cock.” He pushes my hair away from my face as I come down. “Could listen to ‘em all day.” I smile lazily, resting my head on his chest, trying to catch my breath. “C’mon Ella; I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Sam flips us over and drags his cock through my folds, slow and deliberate as he teases me. He leans down, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting at the sensitive nub until I’m writhing beneath him. He leaves a trail of love bites and bruises across my flesh as he moves to give the other breast the same attention. This is his payback, teasing, edging me until I'm a whimpering, desperate mess. 

“Sam,” I whine. He wants me to beg; a smirk spreads across his face, waiting for me to say it. He keeps himself propped up with one hand while the other roams over my body. Sam pulls me up, and guides me to the edge of the couch, propping one of my legs on his shoulder as my other foot meets the floor. He’s putting me on display, and I can feel his hot breath against my sex, his mouth ghosting over me. Sam’s eyes meet mine as his mouth connects with my throbbing pussy, eating me out like a man starved. 

"Fuck." Every thrust of his tongue makes me want to scream, Sam’s hand splays on my stomach, holding me down as he hooks his arm around my leg, trapping himself between my thighs. It’s a battle of wills as I try to clamp my thighs around him, hand cupping the back of his head, holding him in place as I grind against his face. His tongue teasingly circles my clit, making me squirm beneath him, the slight stubble on his cheeks scratching my inner thigh, making me arch off the cushions. He grips my legs tight, holding me in place as he brings me closer to the edge, pulling away just before I fall over. Sam stands up, long arms reaching around to cage me between them, he hovers above me and brings his face to mine, his lips covered in my slick. Sam's lips crash onto mine, taking my breath away as his tongue enters my mouth, and I can taste myself on his lips. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me. _Please_.”

"So desperate." Sam groans as my hand finds his cock, pumping it slowly. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?” He rasps as I try to guide him into my throbbing cunt. I wrap my legs around his waist as he slides in, stretching and filling me full. After a few agonizingly slow thrusts, he picks up the pace, hitting my sweet spot with each roll of his hips and edging me again before he pulls out and roughly flips me onto my hands and knees. A gasp leaves me as he swiftly pushes back in, long, hard strokes that make my eyes roll. A shuddering breath leaves me as he moves faster, and I tighten my grip on the arm to keep myself from collapsing.

“You like that?” He growls, grabbing me by the wrists, curling his body over mine. “Takin’ my cock like a good fuckin’ slut.” His words go straight to my core, and I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks as I squeeze him tighter. “You like being fucked like a slut?” he asks breathlessly, his heated breath fanning my cheek. I whine as he slows his thrusts, grabs me by the hair, and pulls my head back. Placing a rough kiss on my lips, he demands, “Tell me, baby. Lemme hear you say it.”

“I love being fucked like a slut,” I whine as Sam loosens his grip on my hair, my head falling onto the arm of the couch. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” I mewl into the couch cushion. 

“Louder, Ella,” Sam growls, his large hands gripping tightly against my waist, it's the only thing grounding me, and I know that I’ll have bruises in the morning. One of his hands slides around my throat, applying just enough pressure to cause me to toss my head back, and for a moment it’s quiet between us, only the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the apartment. Sam’s grip tightens around my throat, and each buck of his hips emphasizes a word. “Whose... pussy... is... this?”

“It’s yours,” is my stuttering response. “It’s al- always been yours.”

“Goddamn, Ella,” he moans, placing wet kisses on my shoulders. 

“Right there, don’t stop,” I beg him shamelessly. Sam grasps my hip, fingers pressing into my flesh as I raise my hips and push back to meet his next thrust, encouraging him to go deeper. “Sam, please. More.” I can practically feel his whole body tensing, a low growl leaves his lips, fingers tightening around the handful of hair and tugging. “Fuck me harder. I wanna feel it for days.” I say, putting my hand around his, squeezing tighter around my hips. 

“You gonna cum, baby?” he whispers, thrusting faster and deeper, driving me crazy. “I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so tight. You want me to fill you up?” 

He pulls out slowly before slamming back into me, burying himself to the hilt, stilling. _This man will be the death of me._

“Asked you a question, Ella." Sam yanks my head back, growling in my ear. "Maybe I need to fuck some manners into you. You want me to cum in this tight little pussy?” He releases my hip, his hand slides over my mound, fingers lightly brushing over my clit, making me whimper. “Say it, baby.”

“Yes, Sam, please. I want you to cum in me.” He yanks at my hair and pulls me up, bringing my back flush against his chest as he rubs faster as I grind into his lap. Bursts of white fill my vision as he rips another orgasm from me. His hand moves to cover my mouth to muffle my moans. His hips stutter, and with a final, almost violent thrust, Sam grunts, filling me with hot ropes of his cum.

We are both heavily panting as he plants gentle kisses across my shoulders and back, pulling his softening cock out of me. Sam turns me over, laying us on our sides, spooning me as he traces random patterns on my thigh. I turn around to face him, brushing his sweat matted hair away from his face, pressing soft kisses against his lips, making him smile. His lips move to my forehead, and he places a gentle kiss there, wrapping his arms around me. He holds me against him, and the steady beat of his heart lulls me to sleep. 

The absence of Sam’s warmth pulls me from my slumber, and when I open my eyes, he's exiting the bathroom, wearing only his boxers. Even though I’m half-asleep, I can’t help myself from staring at his body. I don’t move, looking over the sculpted muscles appreciatively as he pulls his jeans back on. A tense smile forms, and I notice him bringing his thumb to his left palm, pressing down on what looks to be a scar, relief washing over his face as he makes his way back towards me. 

“You might have a stain or two on your couch,” he chuckles as he takes a seat, grabbing my shirt off the floor and handing it to me. 

"And whose fault is that, exactly?" I smirk, sitting up and pulling it over my head.

"Yours, of course." He argues playfully, “you kissed me first.” 

“Mature,” I chuckle as I get up from the couch. “How long was I asleep?” The sun has set, but it’s not quite dark out yet. 

“An hour or so, I wasn’t exactly looking at the clock earlier.” Sam laughs. “I only got up a couple of minutes before you. I really haven’t slept since the accident. Pretty sure it was driving Dean crazy.”

“Me either. Have you checked on Cordy?” I ask as I slip on my discarded jeans to walk to my bedroom, without waiting for Sam to answer. I gently turn the handle and open the door just enough to catch sight of Cordy. She’s curled up on her side; the bear still pressed tightly against her body. A deep inhale from Cordy makes me freeze for a moment, afraid that she might wake up. I hold my breath as she adjusts to her other side, and I slowly close the door. 

I make my way into my small kitchen, reach into the fridge, and grab two bottles of water, placing one on the counter as Sam joins me. His cheeks are flushed, and there’s a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he opens the bottle and takes a sip.

“What?”

“You got talkative.” 

I raise my eyebrow at the statement. “Are you complaining?” 

“Fuck, no,” he laughs, setting the bottle down. “It’s just surprising, is all. Jesus, I mean, if you were like that before, I wouldn't have lasted five minutes.”

“You barely lasted five minutes, anyways.” I pat his bare chest, teasing as I walk past. “I mean, there were days where you’d go six, _maybe_ seven-”

Sam pulls on my arm playfully, bringing me closer to him as he lands a swat on my ass, a yelp leaving me. “I’ll show you five minutes,” he growls, and leans forward, mouth brushing against my ear, his free hand moving lower down my body. 

“ _Sam_.” I moan as he tries to make his way back into my pants. “Cordy’s in there.” I move my head towards my closed bedroom door. “If she wakes up... I think she’s had a bad enough week as it is, we don’t need to traumatize her further.”

“I’m pretty sure that if _that_ didn’t wake her up, nothing will.” He laughs, and I roll my eyes at him. “Fine,” he sighs loudly. _That’s where she gets it from_. I snicker as he looks at me curiously.

“I always wondered where Cordy got her flair for the dramatic, and you’ve just answered my question,” I say, and his face lights up. “She inherited those puppy-dog looks as well, uses them for evil, of course.” He shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face as he laughs. He runs a hand up into my hair as he pulls me into a deep kiss, stealing my breath away. My hands run back over his chest, and I trace the outline of his tattoo.

“Never pegged you as a tattoo guy,” I lean back. “You were always one of those ‘my body is a temple’ people.”

“It’s- We got them out of necessity. Dean and me, they keep demons from possessing us.”

“Why would a,” I still struggle to get the word out, it’s still almost unbelievable to me. “ _Demon_ , want to possess you?”

“Let’s just say it’s happened before.” Sam looks embarrassed and uncomfortable as the words leave his mouth. “I’ll tell you all about it one day.”

“Do you wanna take a shower?” I ask, changing the subject. I know better than to push him about something like this; he’d tell me about it whenever he was ready. I move back towards my couch, plopping down, allowing myself to get comfortable. “You stink,” I laugh, “I mean, _that_ definitely didn’t help.”

“It helped a little, you know, stress relief?” He offers, taking a seat next to me, pulling me in for a chaste kiss. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against him. “I missed you, more than you know.”

“Me too,” I smile, looking up to meet his eyes as he holds me. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Sam’s hand rubs my arm as I lean against him, finding comfort in being back in his arms.

“I know. When this case came up, I couldn’t believe it. What are the odds of something else being here? I didn’t even think you still lived here anymore. I was sure that after everything, you'd have left.”

"Yeah, I just-" I don't know if I can tell him that the only reason I never really left was on the false hope that he’d come back, to take Cordy and me away with him. I stand up, shaking the thought from my head and move towards the bathroom, turning the light on. “Seriously, Sam, you smell. You should take a shower.” 

“Would you like to join me?” he walks up behind me, hands around my waist, head on my shoulder. _God, yes._

“As much as I would love to,” I say, turning to face him, my hands landing on the back of his neck, “the last time we tried that, I ended up with a sprained ankle, and you pulled a muscle in your groin.” 

“That was before.” Sam leans in, hands gripping tight around my waist, and places sweet kisses around my face before purring in my ear, “I’m much more experienced now.”

I bite my lip as he lets his hands wander over my body and softly groan when pure utter filth starts leaving his mouth. He always took pride when he could make me blush, knowing it was going straight to my core. 

“You’re a pervert,” I chuckle when he pulls away, a cheeky grin forming as he nods his head in agreement. He dips his head to meet my lips again, and I move my head away. Sam lets out a frustrated groan as his forehead lands on my shoulder. I roll my eyes. “Get in there and hurry up.” I playfully swat his ass as he moves towards the bathroom. “I still need one too!”

“All the more reason for you to join me,” he offers again.

“Yeah, because that would be really productive. I’m sure that _nothing_ would happen if I joined you there. Go!”

He gives me his best puppy-dog eyes, and for a moment, I consider it, before gently pushing him away. I’d let myself get caught up in the moment with Sam, and there are still too many things that we need to address first. I shut the bathroom door behind him, and a flood of emotions fills my body.


	11. Family Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Sam's night quickly turns sour while looking through a box of family photos.

The sound of the shower running pulls me out of my head. I open the door to my balcony, letting the fresh air fill my living room, watching as the parking lot’s lights slowly come on. I quickly make my way downstairs to my car, pulling our bags out and doing my best to get rid of any evidence of Cordy's injury. I find the pages that Sam and Cordy were drawing on before; one symbol stands out. It is the same one tattooed on Sam's chest. Others are more intricate, looking almost like Gaelic markings.

I carefully put the papers back, taking the bags upstairs. The shower is still running as I pass the bathroom, and I quietly open my bedroom door and slip in. I set Cordy’s bag down, reaching in to grab a set of pajamas and do my best to change her clothes without waking her up. Cordy briefly stirs, a soft groan coming from her mouth, but her eyes stay closed. I move the giant bear Cas had given her to the floor and place the one from my parents’ house in her arms.

I lay down next to Cordy and watch her sleep for a few minutes, taking in her features. Everyone always says she looks like me, and while I can’t deny that she does, all I see is Sam. I roll off the bed when I hear the shower turn off, walk into my closet to grab an old shoebox, and a photo album off the top shelf. They will help Sam to get to know Cordy better. I silently exit my room, stifling a yelp when I nearly run into Sam standing outside my door.

“Sorry,” he laughs softly and looks behind me as I close the door. “Corie still sleeping?”

“Yeah,” I glance briefly over my shoulder, “always been a heavy sleeper.”

“What’s this, Ella?” Sam asks, looking down at the items in my hands.

“Thought you’d want to see some pictures of Cordy. There's some other stuff in there too. Here." I hand the shoebox and album over. "Will you listen for her?"

A long, hot shower helps me refocus. Hopeful thoughts of Sam being permanently in our lives swirl in my brain, trying to figure out how we could make everything work. Sam wants us to leave, start over with him, move in with him and Dean. A fresh start in a new place. I wouldn't have to hide the fact that Cordy's my daughter, I want nothing more than that, but it isn't about what I want or need. _It's about what's best for Cordy_.

I pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, knowing that we won’t be going anywhere for the rest of the night. Finishing in the bathroom, I find Sam sitting on the couch with the photo album on his lap, smiling as he flips the pages, lightly running his fingers over the pictures. The shoebox is open, but nothing has been removed, it’s full of keepsakes and photos of Cordy from when she was an infant.

While Sam’s still occupied with the photo album, I grab two beers out of my fridge and order a pizza. He smiles as I take a seat next to him, handing him one of the beers and laugh as I glance down to see the series of pictures on the pages.

“Cordy’s seventh birthday,” I explain, before taking a sip of my beer. “Princess-themed, of course.” Cordy’s in a shimmery green dress, tiara adorning her head, grinning broadly at the camera. “She’d just lost her two front teeth, you wouldn’t know it from this picture, but she was sobbing the whole morning before the party.”

Sam chuckles as he continues going through the book, looking to me for stories behind the pictures. I watch as he looks at each one with such intensity, asking questions, wanting to learn all the information he can about her as if he wouldn’t get the opportunity in the future.

I pull the shoebox into my lap. “You didn’t look at anything in here?”

“No,” Sam smiles. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to wait for you.”

We make our way through the box. I pull out Cordy’s baby blanket and both of our ID bracelets from the hospital. Underneath are the photos that Cordy was asking for, ones that we would never display at home. I pull an envelope out from the bottom of the box, already knowing what’s in it, and hand it over to Sam. He opens it carefully, pulling out the photos from the day Cordy was born. I lean against him, and he wraps his arm around me, eyes sparkling as he looks over them.

“I wasn’t going to have any pictures taken that day,” I offer when he looks at me. “I was giving her away, but my cousin insisted, told me it would help with closure or something.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asks, looking up from the photo. “Go through with the adoption?”

“The rational part of me wanted to, and my mom told me that it was the smart thing to do, the responsible thing. I had a couple picked out and everything, even met them a few times. They were really nice, both in their thirties, good jobs. But the second the doctor put her on my chest, I looked at this little girl, who’d been growing inside me, she was both of us- and she was the one piece of you I had left. When mom and dad came to take me home, I had to beg them to let me keep her. Dad had one condition; they would be the ones raising her.”

A knock on the door pulls me away from Sam, who continues to study each picture. I hadn’t eaten anything real in days, relying on hospital vending machines to keep me fed, and I want to devour the pizza in my hands.

“Sam? You hungry?” I ask as I walk into my kitchen, pulling out a slice and devouring it. “Sam?” I pull another piece out, putting it onto a plate. “Hello, Earth to Sam,” he doesn’t look up from the picture in his hand but nods, looking like he’s committing the image to memory.

“This was about a month after she was born?” He asks, looking down into the box and grabbing another photo.

I walk around the table, sitting next to him again, placing the food in front of him. I catch sight of the date on the back of the picture he’s holding. _December 2003_. I'd forgotten about some of these; they brought up painful memories of the abandonment I felt after Cordy’s birth. Sam places the picture on the table, and I pick it up, softly chuckling as I look over it. Cordy’s in a red and green onesie, a similarly striped hat with elf ears attached, I think back to that day, remembering how fussy she was, and how only one person was able to keep her calm.

“Yeah,” I mutter, glancing over to the picture he’s now holding, hoping that maybe it isn’t my other one I think it is. _Crap._ Sam’s jaw clenches as he turns the picture over, and I see my neat handwriting. _Cordelia Mary and Papa John, December 2003._ “First Christmas.”

Sam’s voice is low, tinged with restrained anger, “dad, he- he met her?”

“J-just,” I stammer, Dean’s words replaying in my head. There’s no point in lying; he’s going to see the two or three other pictures of John and Cordy. “Just a couple of times,” I try to downplay it.

He grabs two more and studies them both with intensity. I recognize them both immediately; they are two of my favorite photos, the ones I planned to show Cordy whenever she learned the truth and asked about Sam and his family. We didn’t know it at the time, but it was the last time we would see John. Cordy’s sitting in his lap, hands on his face and laughing wildly; John’s hardened features were nowhere in sight, beaming at the toddler, unaware that anyone had a camera in their hands.

The second photo still had Cordy in John’s lap, a broad toothy grin on her face. It was one of the few times I was able to voluntarily get a picture of John with Cordy. I watch as Sam’s eyes narrow, unsure of how he is going to react. He flips the picture over, letting out a sharp breath.

“June 2006,” Sam whispers, his face hardens, but there are hints of regret and anger in his voice. “June 2006?” he repeats, looking at me for confirmation.

“Yeah, ‘round Father’s Day. We didn’t-” From what Dean told me, I figure John must’ve died not long after visiting that final time.

“He died a month after these pictures were taken,” Sam mutters, unknowingly confirming my suspicions. “H-he had just seen her, and he _still_ didn’t tell me. That last day- he knew- _he knew_ he was gonna die.” The regret and apparent sadness in his tone are gone; only anger is coming through now. “Now, looking back... Fuck!” His voice grows louder, and he’s off my couch, hands running over his face as he frantically paces in front of me. “ _I’ve made some mistakes, Sam…and I don’t wanna fight anymore._ It was you, Corie…”

“He must’ve thought he was keeping us safe,” I offer, “Dean said-”

“Dean knew?” Sam stills for a moment, turning to face me, his whole body tense, and his face crimson. “Dean knew this whole time?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I told him that earlier. Please, Sam, calm down.”

“Ella, you don’t get it,” Sam's hands rake through his hair. “Dad, he- he took both of you from me. He made me think that you hated me, wanted nothing more to do with me. This is all his fault.”

“You know that’s not true, Sam.”

“You're defending him?” His voice is laced with accusation. "After everything?"

“I’m- I’m not.” I gather the photos, putting them back into the shoebox. “Both of our parents lied and manipulated us. _Both_. My parents are- _were_ just as guilty." I take in a long breath, trying to keep myself level-headed. “Neither of us had any reason to question what they told us.”

“Dad- he just couldn’t face the fact that I wanted out. He wanted me to stay under his control. He hated that I found something normal, something-” I watch as Sam walks in circles, I’ve never seen him like this before, the anger practically radiating off of him. “He lied, over and over again," Sam stops again, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks over at me. "How are you not upset?"

“Sam, I’m probably more pissed off than you are, but I can’t focus on that right now.” I reach out to him, not knowing what else to do to calm him down. “The only thing that I can think about is Cordy. Maybe once things have settled down, I’ll go take it out on a punching bag, you’re free to join me.” Bitterness starts to grow inside me, and I can’t stop the next words from leaving me. “If you’re still around.”

Sam stops dead in his tracks, a mixture of hurt and anger play on his face. "You think I'm going somewhere?" A wave of regret rolls through me; this isn’t the time to bring up the topic of him potentially leaving. “I’m just going to _abandon_ you again? That’s all I’ve ever done, right? Let down the people I love? If you don’t want me in your life Ella, all you have to do is say so.”

“I didn’t- That’s not what I said, Sam.” I can feel my heart beating faster as I try to keep myself calm. “You are twisting my words, and you know it.”

“Yes, you did,” Sam argues, his hands balled up into fists. “You told me that you'd take her away. You will not take another person that I love away from me. I won’t allow it.”

“Sam, calm down, please,” I beg, standing up to meet him. I tuck a piece of his hair back, trying my best to calm him. “Just sit back down, and we can talk about this.”

“You can’t hide her forever, Ella,” he snaps back, grabbing at my wrist. “She’s a Winchester, in name or not; she’s _my blood_.”

“Let go of me, Sam,” I ask, doing my best to mask my fear and growing anger. I try pulling away from him, but my wrist is already aching from his hold. “ _Sam_.”

“You can’t change that. Cordy _belongs_ with me, you both do, you’re _mine_.” Sam’s grip on my wrist tightens.

"You're hurting me," I say as calmly as I can, pain already radiating around his grasp. This isn't _my_ Sam, the person I fell in love with all those years ago. _'One day, you'll see the_ real _Sam, the_ hunter,' John's voice is as clear as the day he said it to me. I'd only seen a glimpse of this Sam before, and for the first time, he is the thing I'm afraid of. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

“You _will not_ keep me from my daughter. You need me. Only I can protect her from what’s out there. What are you going to do if something comes after you? You freeze.”

The words sting and I have to choke back my tears. Sam’s eyes widen, he loosens his grip, and I yank my arm away. I examine my wrist for a moment, seeing the hand-shaped bruise already starting to form. My eyes meet Sam’s, the anger drains from his features and is replaced with regret.

“Ella,” his voice softens, “I didn’t-”

My hand flies through the air before I even realize it, my palm connecting with the side of his face. A loud _thwack_ fills the quiet of my apartment.

“Fuck you, Sam. _Cordy’s yours? She belongs to you?”_ The dam that I’ve been holding onto for the last eleven years finally breaks. “She may be your blood, but she is mine too, you have no rights to her, and you don’t get to act like her father all of a sudden. That ship has sailed.” Sam opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“ _You left_. You took the cowards way out and just took everything your dad had to say and didn’t even question it. You can blame John and my parents all you want, but none of them forced you to leave. _You_ made that choice, Sam.” Everything I’ve suppressed saying for the last week comes out with a vengeance.

“They told me-”

“I don’t care what they told you, Sam; it doesn’t matter anymore. You thought I wasn’t going to have her? You knew me better than anyone, and you didn’t think that I still needed you? Whatever decision you thought I made, you think I didn’t want you around? Didn’t you think that if I went through with that appointment, that I wouldn’t have wanted you there to hold my hand through it? _You still walked away, Sam._ You left me _pregnant and alone._ You didn’t even think to come and try to talk to me again? You keep talking about wanting her to know who you are, and I barely even know who you are anymore!”

“ _John_ didn’t abandon me, _us_. He didn't promise to take me away, then disappear,” I spit, walking back a few feet, unconsciously putting myself between him and the door to my bedroom. It dawns on me that I couldn’t actually stop him from walking in there if he wants to, and it terrifies me.

“He barely even knew me. And if he were still alive, he would have probably kept you off the case that brought you back here. From what Dean told me, he was trying to keep us safe, and as much as I hate him for how he did it, _I understand why_. There is _nothing_ I wouldn’t do for that little girl in there.” I say, trying my best to keep my voice low and gesture towards my door. “All you’ve done this week is push me, and ignore all of my wishes. You and Dean plotted to get Cas to heal Cordy without even speaking to me first-”

“I did.” Sam argues, “At the hospital.”

“ _At the hospital_ ,” I echo. “Where I explicitly told you that I wanted to take things slow, break all this to Cordy gently, yet you’ve argued with me about it every step of the way. Then you try to get Cas to change the memories of _my_ daughter. Did you think that was going to fix everything, Sam?”

“I just thought-” My hand connects with his cheek again, an angry red mark left in its wake.

“Fuck you. You were only thinking about yourself. You want to ease your guilt, fine, but that’s not going to do it. You honestly think that’s the best way to know her? By manipulating her into believing that you’ve always been there? _I’m_ the one who’s always been there for her. You weren’t there when I was in labor for fifteen hours in more pain than I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I was all alone while you were off in California living your dream. You weren’t the one doing midnight feedings, being up for hours on end when she had the croup. _I’m_ the one who had to watch her call someone else ‘mom’ for the past 8 years, and I did it for her because I love her more than anything else in the entire world.” I brush away the angry tears, unable to contain them. “ _I’m_ the one who’s about to destroy everything she knows, the one she’s gonna hate. _You_ are a stranger to her, and in a couple of weeks, she’ll forget all about you.”

“Ella, you can’t-”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me what I can and can’t do, Sam Winchester. If you’d stop being a selfish fucking asshole for five minutes, you’d understand that I’m doing this for Cordy. I would happily trade my life for my parents just like John did for Dean, just so Cordy would have a normal, safe life.”

“You can come to Kansas-”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Sam?” I cut him off as I scoff in disbelief. It’s like he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “You want me to drop everything so that we can live in some _bunker_ in Kansas? You haven’t given me a single reason why I should allow you to be in Cordy’s life besides the fact that she is _biologically_ yours. _You_ aren’t her dad, and she doesn’t need you. _We_ don’t need you.” I immediately regret my words, but I know I can’t back down. “Now, please,” I say, moving towards my door, his eyes following me, “get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Ella—” Sam moves towards me, chest puffed out and nostrils flaring. With every step he takes towards me, I can feel my heart beating faster.

“No, Sam. How're you going to keep us safe?" Fear drives the anger in my next words, "What about Jessica, Sam? Didn't she die on your watch? You couldn't protect her, and I will not allow that to happen to _my daughter_.” He stands there, almost in disbelief of what he heard.

“Fuck you, Ella,” he huffs harshly, exiting my apartment, “Tell Corie-” I slam the door in his face before he can finish whatever he is going to say. I lean back against the door, body trembling with residual rage and trepidation that he might attempt to force his way back in. Sam had never frightened me before, but what just happened, scared the crap out of me. I reach up and bolt the door, turning to look through the peephole to see him finally walking away.

I pray that Cordy is still sleeping as I head to my bedroom. By some miracle, she is. I place a kiss on her forehead and walk to my dresser, where I’ve hidden a pack of cigarettes. Pulling it out, along with my lighter, I head towards my balcony, leaving the door cracked so that I can hear Cordy if she wakes up. Sam appears at the building’s entrance, his features shadowed as he makes his way into the parking lot. I light the cigarette and take a long drag, watching as he turns to look up to where I am standing, and his shoulders slump, seemingly in defeat.

I don’t even realize that I am crying until I feel the tears plopping onto my hand. I take another drag as I let myself cry, needing to let the tears wash away all my anger before I go back in. Sam had pushed and pushed, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d told him repeatedly that he needed to let me reveal the truth to Cordy in my own way. And now he thinks she “belongs” to him? I can’t believe he said that. I’ve never seen him act so possessive. The rumble of the Impala pulls me from my thoughts, realizing that I’ve lost track of time as my cigarette has burnt out.

Tossing the stub into the ashtray on the railing, I light another cigarette and chuckle, “Sorry about your date, Dean.”

I watch as the boys argue, the unintelligible sound of their muffled conversation drifts up to my balcony. Sam’s voice rises in anger, and Dean scrubs a hand over his face, nodding his head. A moment later, he claps Sam on the shoulder and walks towards the breezeway.

I’ve almost finished my cigarette when I hear a knock at my door. Sighing, I put it out and make my way back inside. I catch sight of my wrist and grab a sweater, slipping it on and pulling the sleeves down to cover the rapidly forming bruise.

I walk slowly towards the door, eyeing Dean through the peephole, hands shoved into his pockets. “Go away, Dean,” I huff loud enough for him to hear me.

“Ellie, come on, it’s just me.” His body sways like he’s shifting on his feet.

I hesitate, Dean’s not the one I’m mad at, but I know he’s here on Sam’s behalf.

“Please, just give me five minutes?”

I take a deep breath and unbolt the door. Opening it a crack, I grumble, “Cordy’s sleeping. I swear to God if you wake her up-” He raises a hand in surrender, and I open the door to let him in. “What do you want, Dean?”

“It’s Sam-” Dean sheepishly shrugs his shoulders, “he asked me to talk to you. He’s really upset, Ellie. Whatever happened between you; for what it’s worth, he’s sorry.”

“He’s _sorry?”_ I scoff, “Well, that just fixes everything, doesn’t it?”

“C’mon, Ellie, don’t be like that. This last week hasn’t been easy for him.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been easy for _Sam_?” I snap, rolling my eyes. “Well, you know, it’s just been sunshine and fucking rainbows for me.”

“Ellie,” Dean sighs, “I know, and I’m sorry. He wants to know his kid, though.”

“You don’t think that’s something I want too? All I’ve wanted, for years, is for Sam to come back around.” I step to the side, allowing Dean to enter my apartment. I take a frantic peek into the walkway, afraid that Sam might be there, relief flows through me when I see the empty hall. “But the Sam I saw tonight?” I shut the door behind me. “I’ve only ever seen him like that one other time; when he was with your dad. He punched a fucking hole in the wall of his motel room.”

I unconsciously rub my arm, and the sleeve of my sweater rides up, exposing the dark red imprint of Sam’s hand.

“Ellie!” Dean’s eyes widen at the sight of it, and he quickly closes the space between us. I wince when he takes my arm in his hand. "Sam did this?" Dean questions in disbelief, and I bite my lip and nod when he looks up briefly. He examines it cautiously before making his way into my kitchen, the rustling of drawers opening and closing fills the silence in my apartment. Dean returns with an ice pack and towel. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I half-lie, hoping Dean can’t see through it. He guides us to my table, his eyes meet mine, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He wraps the pack in the towel before carefully wrapping it around my wrist. “One minute it was like how it used to be, the next-”

“What happened?” Dean frowns, his forehead wrinkling.

“I was showing him some pictures of Cordy,” I gesture to the shoebox, still sitting on my coffee table. “I’d forgotten that there were some with John, Sam saw them, and he lost it.” Dean didn’t need to know the awful words that were exchanged between us in the heat of the moment. "I was trying to calm him down, and it only seemed to make it worse.”

“Ellie, you gotta know that he would never do something like that on purpose.”

"That's what I always thought; that he could never be like that with me. And if that's the "real" Sam your dad warned me about, then he can't be around Cordy.” Dean lifts the towel and shakes his head. “As much as I still love Sam, I love Cordy more, and her happiness is more important than his.”

Dean opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and he nods reluctantly.

“What’s wrong with Sam, Dean?” I break the growing silence between us; Dean seems caught off-guard by my question. "That wasn’t _my_ Sam, the person I fell in love with, the person I’ve been waiting for the last ten years to come back and take me away.”

"Ellie," Dean hesitates, “it’s not-”

"You have to tell me. If Sam's sick-"

“You’re right.” Dean murmurs in agreement. He sucks in a deep breath, and I can tell that he’s trying to carefully choose his words. “Sam’s going through something, and it’s been taking a toll on him. He- he’s been trying to hide it, and some days he does really well, but others-” He shakes his head again. “This wasn’t about you; it was about dad.” Dean looks up, his emerald eyes meeting mine for the first time since we sat down. “Don’t give up on him.”

“I don’t want to, Dean,” I can feel the tears forming, and I take a deep breath, not wanting to cry again. “But it’s not about what I want or what Sam wants. And he can’t keep making demands. He lost that right a long time ago."

"That's not fair, Ellie."

"I know it's not, but that's too bad. Do you think this has been easy for me? I can’t just throw all this information at Cordy. She’s trying to adjust to the fact that her parents are dead, and now I’m supposed to just tell her, ‘by the way, those weren’t your parents, I’m your mom and that Sam guy you met twice, he’s your dad.’ What do you think that would do to her?”

“I-I guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“No, you didn’t.” I snap, and then immediately curse myself for taking my anger out on Dean. He’s only trying to help. “’ M sorry,” I take a long calming breath. “But until Sam’s done with whatever he’s going through, I can’t- _I can’t_ have him in my life, Dean. Not when I’ve got someone else to think about."

Dean nods his head reluctantly. "Cordy's lucky to have you.”

I walk to the coffee table and pull the shoebox towards me as I rummage through it. The first photo is easy enough to find—the one from her last birthday. I sit down as I hand the photo to Dean, still going through the box, finding the envelope and pulling out a picture. I look at it and smile, handing it over to Dean.

“ _Cordelia Mary Jameson, Nov. 17, 2003, 5:26 pm, 5 lbs 6 oz.”_ He smiles as he reads the back of the picture. He tries to hand them back to me, and I shake my head.

“I want you to keep them.” Dean’s smile grows wider as he studies the two pictures in his hands.

“Thank you, Ellie, he’ll love it. Shit, I love it.”

My fingers land on John and Cordy’s picture, and I pause for a moment before pulling it out and handing it over to Dean.

“ _Papa John_?” Dean lets out a laugh when he looks at the back. “You didn’t _actually_ call him that, did you?”

I shrug my shoulders and let out a dry laugh. “Only sometimes.”

"June 2006?" I see Dean's jaw tick as he makes the same connections Sam did. He lets out a sharp exhale and tosses the picture back into the box.

“You should leave Weldon.” I sigh as I stand and wrap my arms around myself. “You and Sam should go back to Kansas. I think it would best if we had some space between us.”

“Sam’s not gonna like that, Ellie.”

“I know he’s not. J-just get him whatever help he needs, not for me, for Cordy. Both of you are right, Cordy’s going to need her father, but the Sam who made an appearance earlier? _That_ Sam cannot be a part of our lives.”

Dean pulls me in for a hug, holding me tight, and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. Dean pockets the photos, then grabs the notepad and pen lying on the side table, and scribbles something on the paper. He tears the page from the pad, handing it to me as he puts the pen and notepad back where he found them. He’s listed a PO Box in Lebanon, Kansas, under the name Campbell, along with a series of phone numbers. I lean over to the table and write down my number, folding the piece of paper in half as I hand it to Dean.

Dean gives my arm a gentle squeeze and sweetly smiles as he makes his way out of my apartment. “Take care of yourself. And my niece.”

“I will,” I nod slightly. “Dean?” I take another deep breath. “Please, watch out for him.”

“I always have Ellie.”

I close and lock the door, pressing my forehead against the cool wood in an attempt to calm my nerves. Moments pass, and I push away from the door with an exasperated sigh and head to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer before making my way back out to my balcony.

Sam is pacing in the parking lot as Dean approaches him and gives Sam the photos. Even from a distance, I can tell he is smiling. He moves past Dean, making his way back towards the building, and my heart stops for a second. Dean moves in front of Sam, putting his hands on his chest. Sam’s body language instantly changes; he squares his shoulders and stands to his full height, almost as if he were challenging his brother.

“We can’t leave!” Sam’s voice booms through the empty lot as he pushes against Dean until they are almost below my balcony. “We need to be here; _I_ need to be here.”

“Sammy, listen,” Dean’s voice has also increased in volume as he braces an arm across Sam’s chest, trying to prevent him from moving any closer. “These trials, man. They’re affecting you more than you think.”

_Trials?_

“I’m fine, Dean.” Sam shoves Dean hard in the chest, making him stumble backward. “What’s _affecting_ me is knowing that I have a kid, and her mother is keeping me away from her.”

“I don’t know what exactly happened between you and Ellie tonight, but Sam,” Dean’s tone is no longer placating, aggravation tinges every word, “you scared the crap outta her. Ellie may have put on a brave face, but man, you can’t take your anger out on her. She knows something is going on with you, and she’s right, until you finish these trials, you can’t be around her or Cordy.”

“I can’t- Dean, I can’t just leave her again,” Sam’s voice breaks, and I let out a choked sob that brings their attention up to me. “I’m not- Ella, I’m not gonna let you go,” Sam pleads. “I won’t make that mistake again. I love you Ella, and I want to be with you.”

I open my mouth to speak but bite back the words. I want to tell him to stay, but after what I saw tonight, I can’t.

“She wants that too, Sammy,” Dean softens his voice, looking back up to me. “But we’re gonna respect her wishes, and we’re gonna go home.”

Dean gives me a slight nod, and I walk back inside, unable to listen to their conversation any longer. Their stifled voices seep through the balcony door as I make my way back to the couch. I take a long swig of my beer, setting it on the table as I reach for the box of photos. Going through the stack once again, I take mental notes of which ones I need to make copies. It’s about twenty minutes before I can no longer hear them arguing, and after a couple of moments, the roar of the Impala’s engine breaks the silence, slowly fading into the distance as they drive away.

I pull out the envelope that contains all of the pictures from the time Cordy was born to shortly before her first birthday. The last picture in the stack is one that my cousin took only minutes after Cordy was born. Cordy is wrapped in a white blanket with small pastel figures on it, a striped pink beanie with a bow on her head. She’s propped up against my legs, and I’m taking in all her features, smiling broadly at her. I hear a chirp come from my phone, but I ignore it, continuing to relive the pleasant memories the images in front of me contain.

I don’t even realize that I've fallen asleep until a rustling wakes me. I crack an eye open, vision still blurry from sleep, to see an outline of someone sitting across from me. I rub my eyes and blink to let my eyes focus. Cordy is sitting on the floor on the other side of my coffee table, studying something in her hands.

“Whatcha got there, kid?” I croak out as I sit up, voice hoarse from last night’s shouting. As I lean forward to get a closer look at what she’s holding, sheer panic fills me. I realize the shoebox is still open, and all my once-hidden photos are now on display.

“It’s a picture of a baby.” Cordy’s eyebrows furrow as she continues to study the image.

She flips the photo over, and I can feel my heart race as her eyes scan down to the bottom. “November 2003,” Cordy whispers. “Is that me?”

Cordy finally looks up to meet my gaze. A crease in her forehead deepens as she puts the photo down, and I get a look at it. “Where are mom and dad?” She’s putting it all together, grabbing photo after photo, studying each one, and growing upset. “Why aren’t they in any of these?”

Cordy’s eyes search my face for answers. I never imagined I’d tell her like this.

“Was I adopted?” Cordy’s eyes fill with tears.

“No,” I state firmly, shaking my head. “Of course not.”

“You aren’t telling me something,” she picks up another picture. I struggle to find my words. “Tell me,” Cordy demands.

“C’ mere, kid,” I say as calmly as I can, patting the space on the couch next to me. She hesitates, and I can see all the questions forming in her head. “Please, Cordy.”

She moves towards me, sitting down slowly, as she reaches for another photo, but I stop her.

“You know how dad told you about our cousin, the one I lived with before you were born?” Cordy nods, I know she’s connecting the dots already, but I want her to hear it from me. “Mom and dad sent me away to live with her because I was pregnant.”

“You had a baby?”

I ignore the question, searching through the photos for a moment, and find one from the day Cordy was born. “You asked why there were no pictures from the day when you were born? There are, but mom and dad aren’t in them, they weren’t there.” I turn the photo over and show it to her, the same one I was looking at before I fell asleep. “I’m not your sister, Cordy. I’m- I’m your mom.”

“No, you’re lying.” Cordy springs from the couch and takes a few steps away from me.

“No, I’m not.” Tears well in her eyes, and I struggle to keep my own at bay.

“You are!” she screams, and runs into my room, slamming the door behind her. The click of the lock is like a punch to my gut. My whole body shakes as I stand, using every ounce of strength I have left not to break down. I pull myself together as best I can, and walk towards my bedroom, softly knocking on the door.

“Cordy? Please, let me explain.” I hear muffled cries coming from the other side of the door. “You can hate me all you want, but it’s not going to change anything. I told you the other day, it’s just you and me now. Cordy, please, let me in.”

Silence. I turn and slide down to sit on the floor. Sighing, I thump my head back against the wood, mentally kicking myself for not putting everything away the second Sam left. Then I could’ve avoided this, and waited to tell her as I had planned. After about an hour, I pull myself up off the floor and look at the kitchen clock. _11 am_. She’s been with me for less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve royally fucked up with her twice already.

I grab my tablet from it’s designated spot in my living room and try to figure out the next step from here. Unfortunately, Google can’t help with _“telling a sibling you’re actually their parent.”_ I search for Lacey’s card, hoping that she can give me advice.

When noon comes around, I fix Cordy a sandwich and knock on the door, asking if she’d like to come out to eat it. When there is no response, I let her know that I am leaving it outside the door. A couple of moments later, the door cracks open just enough for her to reach out and grab the plate and the bottle of water I had also left for her. The door is closed, and the lock flipped before I have a chance to say anything.

I eventually locate Lacey’s card in the stack of papers from the hospital and reach for my phone, ignoring the message icon with 3 unread messages, dialing Lacey’s number. We talk for hours, and she leaves me with the advice; _“don’t push. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”_

When Cordy finally opens the door, it’s nearly dark out. Her eyes are puffy and red, she holds tight onto her teddy bear, crossing the living room to take a seat next to me.

“Why did you lie to me?” She whispers, “You all lied to me.”

“I didn’t want to, Cordy. I- I was doing what I thought was best. After you were born, I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. Mom and dad still wanted me to do all the things I had worked for, but I couldn’t have done that with a baby. I was seventeen, and I couldn’t take care of a baby by myself.” I take a deep breath, tears filling my eyes, but quickly wipe them away before Cordy can see them. “I let mom and dad raise you so that you could have all the opportunities that I did, and so that one day, I could be the mom you deserve. When you got to be old enough, we were gonna tell you. This,” I gesture to the photos strewn atop the coffee table, “isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

I reach out and pull her close to me, and she curls into my body. “Do I have to start calling you ‘mom’ now?” she says, breaking the tension between us, and I let out a small chuckle.

“You can call me whatever you want, kid.” I feel my whole body relax as she wraps her arms around me.

“No more lies?”

“No more lies.” I hook my pinky around her own. “Promise.”

She reaches back into the shoebox and pulls out more photos, asking me questions like Sam did the night before. I tell her any story I can remember. We’re nearly through the box when she asks the question I’ve been dreading.

“Ellie?” Her hazel eyes focus on my face. “What about my dad?”

“Your dad?” I play dumb, not ready to talk about Sam, not with our fight still fresh in my mind.

“My dad,” she repeats more pointedly. “Who’s my dad?”

I resign myself to the fact that she won’t stop asking until I tell her, and make my way into my bedroom. The only picture I have of Sam and me sits concealed on the bedside table. It’s the one that he’d given me all those years ago when we were dating. I open the frame and carefully pull out the hidden picture. It wasn’t anything special, just the two of us on a park bench; me curled up against him, his arm around me. Neither of us is looking at the camera. Instead, our eyes are fixed on each other with broad smiles on our faces.

I return to my living room, hold the photo tight to my chest, unsure if I’m ready for her to know about Sam. I sit back down next to Cordy and draw a long, shaky breath, preparing myself mentally. “Remember how we talked about Sam being my boyfriend before you were born?” Cordy nods, and her eyes stay focused on mine. “He’s not just an old boyfriend, Sam’s-” I struggle to get the words out.

“Is Sam, my dad?” Cordy takes the words right out of my mouth.

“Sam’s your dad,” I confirm, handing the picture over to her.


	12. Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's increasingly disturbing behavior has Dean concerned about his well-being. Now that Cordy knows the truth, Ella makes a drastic decision.

_Sam POV_

I watch helplessly as Ella disappears back into her apartment. I’m still trying to piece everything together; it all escalated so quickly. Something in me snapped when I saw the picture of dad and Corie. I never thought he’d keep something this big from me.

“Dean, that’s my kid up there. And I’m not leaving here without her, without Ella,” I argue as I make my way towards the entrance of the apartment building. She can’t keep me away. I need them with me; I don’t want to lose a second more with them.

Dean blocks my path as I try to enter the building. “Yes, you are Sam,” his hand pushes against my chest. “You need to give her space.”

“They’re not safe, Dean, don’t you see that? They need to come with us. I can protect them.” I try to move around him, but Dean holds his ground in front of me. I can feel the anger rising again. “You- you’re being just like dad, trying to control me! He kept me away from my daughter for over 10 years, and I’m not gonna let you do the same! I won’t let you keep them from me. They belong with me!”

“Sam, do you hear yourself? This is what Ellie was talking about. You can’t expect her to drop this bomb on her kid- ”

“ _My kid_.”

“No, Sam,” Dean says firmly. “Right now, Cordy’s not your kid. If you want her to be your kid, then you gotta start acting like her parent, not some possessive asshole, and put her needs above your own.”

“Ella thinks I abandoned them.” I try to maneuver around him, but it’s like he can predict my moves.

“It’s different this time, Sam. Ellie told me she doesn’t want you to go. She wants you to be a part of her life, of Cordy's. But man, you can keep denying it all you want, but these Trials, they’re changing you. You left her arm all bruised up, and you don’t even seem to care.”

“I’m going up there, Dean, and you can’t stop me. I need them- ” It takes me a minute to catch up to what Dean just said. My eyes go wide at the revelation. “Wait, I hurt her?”

I stumble back towards the parking lot as it all comes flooding back to me, my hands gripped tight around Ella's wrist, her demanding that I let go of her, the fear she tried to hide behind her instinct to protect Corie. When I reach the Impala, I collapse against it, replaying the whole night again in my head.

“Sammy,” Dean’s hand lands on my shoulder, offering support. “She knows it wasn’t intentional, but it doesn’t change the fact that you took your anger at dad out on her.” He takes a deep breath. “All the crap with dad, you gotta let it go- ”

“ _Let it go?_ ” I scoff as I rise back up on my feet. “Even after all these years, you’re still making excuses for him. You want me to just ‘forgive and forget’? I can’t do that.”

“All I’m sayin’ is,” Dean runs his hands over his face, “you’re pissed at dad, and I get it. I saw the picture, and believe me, if he were still alive, I’d probably want to take a swing at him too. _Dad’s_ the one who decided to lie to you and Ellie. It’s not her fault.”

“I don’t want to lose her again, Dean. Either of them. All I've been able to think about since I found out about them is that something will find them and hurt them. I can’t let that happen. I’m staying,” I argue as I begin walking back towards the apartment building. “Fuck the Trials; I’m done. Ella and Corie, they’re more important.”

“Sammy,” Dean’s in front of me again, hindering my movements. “Kevin said that the only way you’re going to get better is by finishing the Trials. You want to keep them safe? Shutting the gates of hell will do that."

"I can't leave them, Dean. Not again."

"Ellie's right, Sam. You two- you need some space. You've both been through a lot over the last week, and you need time to process. You've got to think about Cordy, Sam. You want to be her parent? Then respect Ellie's wishes and stay away- " I open my mouth to protest, but Dean continues, "for now. And when the trials are over, and Ellie is ready, we'll find a way to make it work." I nod my head, knowing he’s right. "Now, do I need to call Cas, or are you going to get in the car willingly?"

I glance back up to Ella’s balcony, hoping that she’ll come back out. I just want to see her one more time. When she doesn’t appear, I let Dean walk me back to the Impala. He opens the door and then reaches into his pocket, handing me two photos and a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Ellie wanted you to have these.”

I immediately recognize the images, the first is from Corie’s last birthday, Ella’s got her arms wrapped around her, and the other is from the day Corie was born. My heart swells as I look down at the picture of my newborn daughter. Ella’s right, I’m the one who chose to leave. Dad said she didn’t want to see me again, and I just believed him. I left without a word to her. I just got in the car and drove straight to Palo Alto. The roar of the engine fills the silence that’s settled around me. I unfold the paper, revealing a phone number. I assume it’s Ella’s, and Dean confirms it as he looks over at me.

“I gave Ellie all of our numbers,” Dean tells me as we exit the parking lot. “She can stay in touch if she wants to,” Dean looks back at the picture, “I hate to sound like a broken record, man, but just give her time.”

I pull my phone out, programming Ella’s number before opening an empty message. My fingers hover over the screen, unsure of where to even start. There’s so much I want to say to her, to both of them, but I know it isn’t the type of thing to send in a text. As her building disappears from my view, I quickly type out three short messages and wait anxiously for Ella’s response, praying that she’ll forgive me.

* * *

_Ellie POV_

Cordy carefully grabs the picture out of my hands. I watch her study it for a moment before finding the right words.

“Sam and I, we…” I struggle as she looks back up, questions written all over her face. “We were young and in love. We were making plans for our future, and when I found out I was pregnant with you, it took us both by surprise.”

“You didn’t want me?” Her voice cracks slightly, and my heart breaks.

“It’s not that, kid.” I return to my seat next to her and wrap my arms around her. “We both wanted you more than anything. You may not have been planned, but don’t think for a second that means you weren’t loved from the minute we decided to keep you.”

“But you let mom and dad-”

“It’s complicated, Cordy.” I sigh, I’m not prepared for any of this. “Mom and dad- they were upset with me when they found out I was pregnant.” _That’s an understatement._ “Dad didn’t like Sam, and he told him things that weren’t true, and Sam’s dad told me something about him that really hurt my feelings.” Part of me thinks I should be more specific, but I shake the thought out of my head. She doesn’t need to know that her grandparents never wanted her around in the first place; that they had lied and manipulated Sam and me into believing awful things about each other.

“Sam left for college, and I went to South Dakota to have you. When we saw each other at Joe’s, it was the first time we’d talked since I told him I was pregnant. When I met him before the accident? That was when he found out that I had you.” Cordy puts the picture down before grabbing another one.

“Is he going to replace dad?” Cordy whispers.

“Sam’s your biological father, but that doesn’t mean dad wasn’t your dad. And if you’re not ready to know Sam in that way, all you have to do is tell me. I’m not gonna force Sam into your life. You’re old enough to make that choice yourself.”

“Do I have to decide now?”

“No, kid. You take as much time as you want. I’m gonna be on your side, no matter what you decide.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I pepper her face with kisses, causing her to giggle before squirming out of my arms. “Go get in the shower, and then we can go get some dinner, okay?”

She hops up from the couch, scampering towards the bathroom, and I suppress a laugh as she slides on the linoleum, nearly running into the wall. She gives me a thumbs-up before closing the door behind her. I gather all of the photos, setting aside four or five that I want to display. I don’t have to hide them anymore; my secret was out to the people it mattered to the most.

My phone’s still on the coffee table, and I remember that someone had messaged me last night, and I never bothered reading them. I don’t recognize the number, but I have a feeling I know who it belongs to. I compare it to the list of numbers Dean gave me last night, confirming that it’s Sam’s. A small part of me wants to delete the messages without reading them, wondering if he thinks a couple of texts will fix everything that happened last night. I debate with myself, but I’m curious about what he could still have to say. I reluctantly click on the icon, three short messages popping up.

Sam << I’m sorry.

Sam << I’ll do whatever you want.

Sam << 1 4 3

 _Crap._ Ten words. That’s all it takes, and my heart is at war with my head. Begging me to forgive him, telling me to allow him into my life, into Cordy’s. _No._ Sam showed me a side of him last night that I didn’t think I’d ever see. All of his anger and resentment directed towards me, the way he grabbed me. _What’s to stop him from going off like that again?_

I take a long breath; I have to stand my ground, knowing that Cordy isn’t ready to know him like that. But she will, one day.

Ellie >> Thank you, Sam.

My phone chirps again before I can click away from his message. I wasn't expecting him to respond so quickly. Had he been waiting all day for me to reply?

Sam << We’re back in Lebanon, and we won’t bother you anymore. If you ever need anything, pray to Cas, he’s always listening.

I know it’s meant to be a comforting thought, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me. Sam had said that Cas was like family to him and Dean, but surely Cas has better things to do than to wait around for me to call on him.

Sam << I hope that one day you and Corie will be able to forgive me. I love you, Ella, I never stopped.

Sam << I’ve left something for you at your parent’s house, check the mailbox.

My fingers hover over my phone. I want to tell him that I still love him too, but I can't, not like this, not with all of the nasty things we'd said still lingering in the air. Everything I try to say feels like a final goodbye, shutting the door on us forever. I type out the only thing I can think of that won't give him any false hope.

Ellie >> Take care of yourself, Sam.

I set my phone down, not waiting for any response. I take the box of photos and put them on a bookshelf, not wanting to hide them in my closet anymore. I change into my favorite pair of jeans and a fitted t-shirt, and french braid my hair, the only thing I can really do after sleeping on the couch. I check my wrist, the size of the bruise has decreased slightly, but it’s still large enough for Cordy to ask questions if she sees it. I’m not ready to explain what happened to Cordy, so I put my sweater back on to cover the injury.

I walk back into the living room and notice what a mess my apartment is. From the sex to the fight, Sam and I had displaced a few items as we moved about the place. I shake my head as I begin straightening up. I hear the shower turn off and wait for Cordy to appear from the bathroom. My oversized towels drown her tiny body, and she runs into my bedroom. I continue picking up beer bottles and plates, one with a full slice still on it, and throw it all away.

Cordy re-appears from my bedroom, dressed similarly to myself, in jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair is already starting to curl. Between Sam and me, the kid inherited not only a lot of hair but thick hair as well, the color similar to my own.

“Ellie? Can you do my hair? Like yours?” She looks at me with her big hazel eyes. Clearly, Sam must’ve taught her how to use them to her advantage, giving me her best puppy-dog look. I nod and laugh as she darts toward me. “We’re like twins!” she giggles as I finish her hair, and I give her a playful swat as she runs back to the bathroom.

I gather my purse and cell, tucking the phone into my back pocket as we leave the apartment. Cordy’s breathing hitches for a moment when we approach my car. I grab her hand, squeezing it as we walk past the car. There’s a diner within walking distance, and I’m afraid of a repeat of yesterday’s incident. We enter the restaurant a few minutes later and take our seats at a booth. There’s a large novelty map decorating the wall next to us, and Cordy immediately tries to locate Weldon on it.

“Why can’t I find it?” She playfully pouts as she moves into her seat.

“Weldon is tiny, kid, it’s barely on a Texas map. It’s definitely not gonna be on a map of the whole country.”

“Ellie? Where am I gonna live now?” she asks, still looking at the map on the wall. A waitress comes by and takes our order, dropping our drinks a few minutes later. “Are we gonna stay at your apartment?”

“That’s something I wanted to talk to you about, kid. We can stay out here, find a bigger place for just the two of us, or go back to mom and dad’s. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to the house now, but I can talk to the lawyer if you want to stay there or, if you want, we move to a brand-new place. New town, new people, whaddya think, kid?”

“Can I pick?” she asks excitedly. “If we move, can I pick where?”

“As long as it’s somewhere we can afford. No New York City, or L.A., got it?” Cordy sighs dramatically, “I know, I’m no fun.” I give an equally dramatic eye roll, causing Cordy to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Can I choose now?”

“If you want to,” I take a sip of my coffee, trying to contain my laughter as she covers her eyes with one hand and circles the map with the other. “You didn’t already have a place in mind?” I ask, and she separates her fingers to glare at me briefly. “We’re gonna let fate decide, huh?” I tease as her hand lands in the center of the map.

“Kansas.” She states as she uncovers her eyes. I feel my heart drop into my stomach. “That’s where we’re moving.”

It can’t be a coincidence that she chose Kansas, of all places. “I don’t think Kansas is the right place for us, kid, why don’t you pick again?”

“What’s wrong with Kansas?” She asks innocently. _It’s where your father and uncle are, and I’m not ready to be that close to them._ “You said somewhere new; I’ve never been there before.”

“There’s a lot of places that you haven't been to before, Cordy. We could go to any of those.” I’m doing everything I can to keep my voice calm.

“You said I get to pick. I pick Kansas.” She stares me down defiantly.

“I’ll think about it.”

The waitress brings our food over, and we eat mostly in silence. I can see Cordy’s upset with me, and I try to come up with some reason that’ll make sense to her as to why I don’t want us to move to Kansas. By the end of our meal, I tell her that we can move only if I choose the city, afraid that somehow she’ll pick Lebanon. We finish our food and make our way back to my apartment. Instead of walking towards the entrance of the building, I guide us to my car.

“We’re gonna be in and out of cars a lot tomorrow,” I say as I slow my steps. “I wish we didn't have to, but there's no way around it. When you’re ready, we’re gonna get in.” Her eyes fill with fear, and her breathing grows shallow. I lower myself so that I’m at her eye-level. “It’s okay to be scared, Cordy.” I can see the tears brimming in her eyes. “You know what I do when I’m scared?” She shakes her head. “I take a deep breath and count to ten. Can you do that for me, kid?”

Cordy closes her eyes and takes a deep inhale, and I move my lips with hers as she counts. She repeats it a few more times before her breathing is back to normal.

“Good. Do you think you’re ready to get in?” I ask gently, and she nods hesitantly. “How about I get in first? And as soon as you’re ready, you can join me.”

I open the back door and slide into the seat. Cordy takes a tentative step forward before moving back to her original spot. I patiently wait as she repeats this action multiple times until she’s only a few inches away from me. I reach my hand out and give hers a reassuring squeeze when she takes it. “When you’re ready, kid.”

I move over, letting her take my place in the back seat. She lets her legs hang out the door for a few minutes before bringing them into the car, weakly smiling when she faces me.

“See? You’re okay.” I pull her to my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “We’re gonna be okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“You promise?”

I nod, Sam’s words from earlier repeat in my head, he’d told her to some extent about Cas, and she took comfort in it. “Remember Cas? Sam and Dean’s friend?” She nods in response. “Sam told you that he has the best hearing in the world, right? You know why?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“He’s an angel,” Cordy’s eyes widen, and a broad grin spreads across her face. “He’s always listening, and if you ever get really scared, you can pray to him.”

The next day is a blur. I’m barely able to process anything going on around me until we’re back at my parents’ house. I try to dodge questions about Cordy’s lack of injuries, chalking it up to a “miracle” that she walked away without a scratch. Once all the neighbors have left, I search for Cordy; she kept to herself most of the day, disappearing upstairs as more people arrived. I find her in my parents’ room, asleep, and snuggled in between their bedsheets. I crawl in with her wrapping my arms around her tiny body and let sleep take me away.

My alarm jolts me awake the next morning. Cordy grumbles in her sleep as I slip out of bed and make my way downstairs. Remembering Sam’s last message, I walk out to the mailbox and see Sam’s scratchy handwriting on a plain envelope as soon as I peer inside. I bring the envelope and the other pieces of mail that have built up over the last week, back into the house. When I open the message from Sam, I find a piece of paper folded around two necklaces. The charms on each chain match the symbol tattooed on Sam’s chest.

_One for you and one for Corie; please, Ella, never take these off._

A week after the funeral, I sit down with the estate attorney. He walks me through mom and dad’s will, along with the state of their finances. The insurance will cover the cost of the funeral and the remaining mortgage of the house. If we choose to continue living there, he explains, I wouldn’t need to worry about house payments. I consider it briefly, thinking that it may be better for us. I discuss it with Cordy that night, and we decide, together, a new town would do us both good. With the sale of the house and insurance settlement, Cordy and I will have more than enough to start over.

I temporarily move us back into the house, the tight quarters of my apartment driving us crazy. That night, Cordy pulls up a map of Kansas on my laptop and makes me pick a city at random. I study the screen for a moment, finding Lebanon, knowing that I can’t be in the same city as Sam and Dean. I stay near the edges of the state lines, and my finger lands on Lawrence. Something about the name is familiar, but I shake it off, glad to be at least a few hours away from Sam. They had both kept their promises, and I hadn’t heard from either of them since they’d left Weldon.

We start looking at houses online in Lawrence and take a weekend trip to see the homes that we are interested in, only able to agree on one. We canvas our new neighborhood, and I find a sense of comfort on the quiet street. I notify my realtor that I’d like things to move as quickly as possible, wanting us to be completely settled in by the time Cordy starts school. It takes nearly two months for the house to become ours. During that time, Cordy and I work on navigating our new relationship.

Moving day is bittersweet; saying goodbye to my childhood home, Cordy’s home, nearly causes me to break down. We spend several minutes alone in the empty house, looking over everything before bidding it a final goodbye. I wipe a few tears from my eyes and notice Cordy doing the same; I pull her against me and squeeze her shoulder. This is the only home she’s ever known, and now, she’s leaving it. We’re both crying when I pull out of the driveway and set out towards Lawrence.

When we arrive at our new home the next day, we’re singing loudly and badly to the radio. The movers arrive shortly after us, and within a few hours, they’ve cleared out their truck, and everything is in its proper place. On our first night, our next-door neighbor, Cynthia, introduces herself and her daughter, Ava, who is Cordy’s age. The two girls run off into the house, chattering away, and Cordy invites her to sleep over as soon as we are completely settled. Cynthia and I laugh at how quickly they’ve become friends, and she extends an open invitation to Cordy to come over at any time. Most of the other families, she explains, have preschool-age children.

For the rest of the week, a different neighbor came knocking on the front door, usually with a baked something-or-other in their hands. Tonight is no different, but when I open the door, it’s not a family that greets me, but a bearded man in a black suit.

“Hello, darling,” a thick British accent comes from him. “You must be Moose’s little whore.”


	13. Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ellie and Cordy settle into their new home, an enemy of Sam and Dean's shows up at their door.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, stepping over the threshold into my home. He looks around for a moment, a smug grin creeping across his face. “Moose and Squirrel thought they could hide you from me, but as always, they underestimate me.”

I’m unable to stop him as he moves further into the house. My eyes dart to the kitchen, hoping that Cordy stays in there until I can get this stranger out of the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe the rumors aren’t true.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice. 

_Rumors?_ "What do you want?”

“Oh, Eliza, I don’t even know where to start.” My heart stops at his use of my name. He lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “Squirrel’s head on a platter, Moose under my command, serving in his rightful place, and you’re going to help me get what I want.”

“Who are you?” I ask, trying to cover the fear in my voice. 

“Name’s Crowley.” He walks into my living room, his voice is calm, but underneath I can sense he’s dangerous. “Been watching you for some time now, Ellie, since before you left that godforsaken town in Texas, lucky for you, I’m a patient man.” _He’s been watching me?_ “It’s fate, darling, that you’re in Lawrence. Surely you know this is the same town in which he was born, where his mother died?” I don’t answer. “Now, the only family he has left is in the same place his family fell apart.”

“Ellie,” Cordy comes out from the kitchen. The man’s eyes widen at the sight of her, a look of smugness washes over his face. “Who is it?”

“Cordy,” I try my best to keep all worry out of my voice. _I have to get her out of the house,_ “how about you go over to Ms. Cynthia’s and play with Ava?” I try to keep my voice steady, not wanting to alarm her. 

“This must be _her._ ” His eyes narrow on Cordy. “She’s the spitting image of him; how no one put it together sooner is beyond me.” A sly smile creeps over his face. “Hello sweetie, you can call me Uncle Crowley.”

Her eyes dart between the man and me, and she doesn’t move. I move towards Cordy, and I can feel the man’s eyes on me, watching my every step.

“Cordelia Mary, look at me,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “Go over and play with Ava, I’ll come over to get you in a little while.” 

She hesitates, and I keep a fake smile on my face as she makes her way towards the front door. She stops in front of me. “I don’t want to leave you, Ellie,” Cordy whispers, throwing her arms around my waist, holding on to me tightly.

“Yes, _Ellie_ , let her stay,” he taunts, taking another step closer to us. “I do love to _play._ ” 

I gently pry her arms off of me and guide her out the front door. She stands on the porch for a moment, watching as I do everything to mask my fear. 

He leans in whispering in my ear, “I could snap her neck like a twig.” Panic fills me as he stares into my eyes. I can feel them watering, and I nod slightly.

“Stay at Ava’s until I come and get you. You don’t have to worry about me.” I close the gap between us, lower myself down to meet her eye-level, and wrap my arms tight around her. “Remember what Sam told you? About the angels?” She nods. “Then you have nothing to worry about.” 

She takes a step back, and I give her a reassuring smile. I can feel Crowley behind me, watching as Cordy walks to Cynthia’s across the street. As soon as I see the door open and she disappears into the house, I let out a strangled breath. When I turn around, he’s only inches away and takes a step to the side; with a flick of his fingers, the door behind me slams shut. My heart drops, and I turn back around, desperately trying to open it. He chuckles at my attempts, before yanking me away.

“Whatever you want, leave her out of it,” I say with all the courage I can muster. “I don’t know who you think we are-”

“You’re _exactly_ who I think you are, darling,” he says sharply. “I didn’t believe my source at first, thought she was sending me on some wild goose chase, but there is no denying it. _That_ is the child of Sam Winchester.”

“She’s not–" I splutter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no point in lying, darling.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “There’s been quite enough of that already," he laughs snidely. "Angels weren't the only ones keeping tabs on you." 

“ _Who_ are you? What do you want from us?”

“I hate repeating myself,” he growls. “Crowley, _King of Hell_.” He snaps his fingers, and I’m forced into a chair, unable to move. “You and that little bastard Winchester, are going to help me get what I want.”

“Fuck you.” I spit out. I squirm against the chair, trying with all my strength to move, but as hard as I try, I can’t fight my way out. _Castiel, if you can hear me, I’m in trouble, and I need your help._

“Feisty one, aren’t we?” he quips. “I like a girl with a little fight in her.”

I continue to struggle against the invisible force holding me down. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding a bottle of amber liquid and glass.

“In a moment such as this, one needs a drink,” he declares while filling the glass. “You, my dear, are going to be in for such a treat. Nothing brings me more joy than watching the Winchesters suffer.” 

“They won’t let you hurt me. They’ll be here any second, and they’ll stop you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, darling.” He leans forward, a smug smile forming on his lips. “My sources tell me that those morons aren’t aware that you’re in Lawrence. They’re under the impression that you’re still in Weldon.” He brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Tsk tsk tsk. I could move you across the country before they even realize you’re gone. Or maybe,” he takes another drink, “I’ll just leave your body for them to find, that is, whatever’s left.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Very well then, perhaps I’ll go to your neighbors and have a chat with little Cordelia,” he smirks, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. “You’ll find I can be _very_ persuasive.”

“Don’t.” My heart is thudding in my chest. “You even go near her and I’ll–”

“You’ll _what_ , darling?” He grins slyly and produces a long silver blade, admiring it as he slices through the air. My eyes widen as I suck in a nervous breath. “Now, are you going to do as you’re told?” 

_Cas, if you can hear me, I need your help._

I clench my jaw and don’t respond, trying to hold my own against him. He’s out of the chair and in front of me instantly, holding the blade against my throat. I whimper as I feel a trickle of blood flow down my neck. 

“I asked you a question, Eliza. Are you going to cooperate?” I nod defeatedly. “Good girl. You’re going to convince those idiot Winchesters to hand something over to me, something that _belongs_ to me. Understood?”

“Why me?” I mumble, hoping that I can stall him until Cas answers my prayers. “We don’t– we’re not hunters, we’re not in that life.”

“That’s what makes this even more delicious,” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “If you were, you’d know how to ward your home, keep things like me out. Moose just left you vulnerable to any sort of attack.” His words sting; I keep telling myself that there isn’t any truth to it. “It’s usually the first thing they teach someone, Devil’s Trap, simple enough for anyone to learn. Would’ve kept me from doing _this_.” He snaps his fingers, and pain radiates throughout my body. His eyes narrow as I silently struggle. “Interesting.”

He snaps again, and the pain slowly dissipates, before rising again. He repeats this over and over for what feels like hours. I’m a sobbing mess when he finally stops. _Please, Cas._

“You know, our boy Sam has been getting his hands very dirty for quite some time now, and you two may be the only things that can keep him in line. You see, darling, you’re what they call leverage.” He finishes the glass and pours himself another drink. “If you’re not enough, little Cordelia may be the _exact_ motivation those piles of flannel need.” His phone rings, pulling his attention away from me; he stares at it for a moment before looking back in my direction. “Do as you're told, darling.” He taps a button on the phone and lays it down on the arm of his chair. “Moose! I was wondering when you’d finally call.”

“We’re finishing the Trials, Crowley. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.” The sound of Sam’s voice through the small speaker fills me with a temporary sense of relief.

“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been having quite the lovely chat with someone who may be able to convince you otherwise. Say ‘hello,’ darling.” Crowley walks towards me, holding the phone out until it's in front of me. 

“Whatever you’re trying to pull, it isn’t gonna work.” Crowley’s eyes narrow as he watches me react to Sam’s voice on the phone. “It’s over, you lose.” Crowley arches an eyebrow and smiles at me. _He’s enjoying this._

“Cooperate, darling,” Crowley hisses, waiting for me to speak. “Not talking, eh? We can fix that.” He growls, and suddenly a burning sensation spreads from my shoulder to my fingertips, as some invisible force pulls it into an unnatural position. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, doing everything I can not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain I’m in. “Oh, I like this one, Moose. She’s tougher than she looks. Let’s see what we can do about that.” Crowley looks at me pointedly for a moment, and his lips curl. 

Before I can comprehend what he’s smiling about, the force on my arm increases. Tears fill my eyes, and the taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek, desperately trying not to give in to Crowley’s demands. 

“I wish you could see the look on her face. She’s trying so hard to be strong. But…” Another pull on my arm, snaps the bone, and I scream, unable to do anything else. “I always get what I want.” 

“SAM!” I barely recognize my voice as I shriek out his name. 

“Ella?!” His voice is faint through the buzzing in my ears. I let out a sob as the pain radiates through me. “Is that you? Talk to me, baby, let me know you’re okay.”

“It’s her, Sam.” My vision has blurred, but I can still make out the smug smile on Crowley’s face. “Did you really think you could keep Eliza and that little bastard of yours hidden from me?”

“Stay away from them!” Sam’s voice roars through the phone speaker. 

“Too late for that one, Moose. I don’t know why I didn’t think of using them sooner. Tommy never stood a chance. Tell me, what was it like staring into Sarah’s face as she took her last breath? Knowing you allowed another child to be raised without their mother? You won’t see Eliza’s, and who knows what’ll happen to little Cordelia.”

“No, no, no,” I whimper. Crowley lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he continues torturing me with his words. _Castiel, I need your help._

“I have connections _everywhere,_ boys, you should know that by now. But can you imagine my surprise when Eliza and Cordelia show up at the only place I have one of my plants in a hundred miles? That’s serendipitous.”

“You go anywhere near her, and I swear to God–” Sam threatens, voice full of anger and frustration. 

“You’ll _what?_ ” Crowley snaps his fingers, and it feels like white-hot pokers are being dragged along my veins. “You think you can stop me from doing _this?_ ” I scream out again as his knife slashes across my skin. 

“Take your hands off of her!” 

“Oh, believe me, Samantha, if my hands were on her, you’d know.” 

He snaps again, and I let out a shaky breath as the pain subsides. I know it won’t last long. Crowley’s getting off on torturing me both physically and mentally. I try to prepare myself for whatever he may do or say next. The sudden sound of a dog growling somewhere from behind startles me, and I turn away in disgust as a rancid puff of air wafts across my cheek.

“You know, I’m quite disappointed in you,” sarcasm bleeds from his lips. “Knocking up some small-town girl, then just walking away? That’s not a move I’d expect from you, Samuel. But the _pièce de résistance_? Walking away without leaving some sort of protection for your whore and the little bastard. You know what’s stopping me from getting Cordelia?” Crowley’s eyes narrow on me, “ _nothing,_ except the fact that I want you to listen as I rip Eliza’s last breath from her. Come to think of it, maybe I’ll go to the neighbor’s house and bring Cordelia back here. Let her watch as I slit Eliza’s throat.” 

“Ella, don’t listen to him,” Sam’s voice cuts through the air. “Whatever he says, you can’t believe him. Demons lie. We’re– _I’m_ gonna stop him.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Crowley sneers. “Tell me, do you even know where your precious Eliza and Cordelia are?”

“O-of course,” Sam stammers. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I did the one thing I promised Sam I wouldn’t do, I took Cordy and left. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it. 

“Kansas,” my voice is weak, barely above a whisper, and every logical part of my brain is telling me that Sam can’t hear me, but I try to tell him anyway. “We’re in La-”

I feel a grip around my throat, cutting off my air supply as I try to choke out the words.

“Ah, ah, ah, darling,” Crowley berates me. “Let’s not spoil the surprise, shall we?

“Le- go,” I beg him, “pl- any-”

“What was that? Did you say _anything_ , darling?” Still unable to speak, I nod in response. _“That_ is a poor choice of words.” Crowley sets the phone down, saunters over and pats the air next to my shoulder, “stand down, Juliet.” The growling fades away as he leans in closer and grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back. “I could have you tied down and gagged, begging for death, and while I’d be happy to oblige, it wouldn’t quite scratch the itch. 

"Maybe I should have one of my demons possess you,” Crowley eyes the charm hanging around my neck and lowers his voice. “Jolly Green would never suspect such a thing. He’d be so happy to have you back. Then, when the time is just right, I’d have you watch as he dies by your hand. Can you imagine the look on his face, watching the love of his life slice him open? You’d be a captive audience, allowed to watch as he draws his last breath, feel the warmth of his blood as it flows from his wounds, maybe even get a little taste. Squirrel would be devastated. There’s nothing that he wants more than for Moose to get his happy ending. Watching him unravel as he realizes there’s no way to bring back his precious Sammy? Well, that would be simply sublime.” He lets go of me and takes another drink from the glass. “No demon will deal with him, not again. Sam Winchester will be dead, for good this time.”

“This time?” I gasp as the pressure on my throat is released.

“Ah, it seems those flannel-wearing idiots _haven't_ shared everything with you. Can’t say I blame them, that lumberjack has died so many times, who can keep track?” He lets out a dry laugh, and I close my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm myself. “Surely he told you how he let Lucifer out of his cage in Hell? No? Or how he let Dean rot away in Purgatory for a year?”

The anger in Sam’s voice is almost palpable as it booms through the small phone, and I tilt my head, almost expecting to see him standing next to the chair. He alternates between threatening Crowley and begging me not to listen to the demon. Crowley continues to ramble, and I try not to react to his goading, hoping I can keep him talking until Cas shows up. 

“Samantha tried to live a normal life.” Crowley walks over and picks up the phone. “Surely, he told you about the girl he gave up everything for?” I want to scream, tell him to shut up, and I can see the joy spread across his face as he riles me up. “C’mon Sam, tell us all about the girl that made you leave everything you’ve ever known. I’m sure Eliza is just dying to know why you chose another woman over her. Over your daughter.”

“I– I didn’t. Ella, please, you can’t believe him. When all of this is over, I’ll explain everything.”

“I think we’d all love to hear it, Moose. Come now, share with the class,” Crowley intones. “Better yet, explain to Dean just how easy it was for you to walk away. You didn’t even think twice about it, did you? Just left poor Kevin to the wolves, so to speak. Dean was fighting for his life, and you were living in Texas with a girl and a dog.” 

Sam’s breaths come hard and fast as he sputters out denials. Dean’s muffled ‘motherfucker’ filters through the discord.

“He was so close, darling, only a few hours away, and yet, he didn’t even bother to contact you, did he? No, Samantha found some other little whore to fill the emptiness. Gave up looking for his brother, for her. Gave up a life of hunting for her.” 

I keep repeating Sam’s words in my head, _demons lie._

“He didn’t do that for you, did he? No, he ran away.”

“He didn’t– it wasn’t his fault,” I argue feebly, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself _._ “He loves me; he wouldn’t have left if he’d known-”

“Are you sure about that, darling?”

“Ellie, don’t listen to him,” the low timbre of Dean’s voice comes through the phone. 

“We’d been keeping track of Eliza for years,” Sam and Dean are silent. “Oh, boys, did you think that Feathers and all those other idiot angels were the only ones who knew about Eliza? That’s just _naive_. You know Lilith was planning on using her next if Ruby couldn’t get the job done?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls. “Leave her alone, Crowley.”

“Didn’t tell her about Ruby, either? You just love keeping your secrets, don’t you?” Crowley’s lips curl as Sam goes silent. “Got you nice and addicted to-”

“Shut it, Crowley!” 

“You had so many chances to track her down. Admit it; you hadn’t thought about Eliza in years. If you had, it wouldn’t have taken ten years and a Shtriga to get you back to that one-horse town. We thought Jessica’s death would’ve sent you running back, but no, your unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with your brother and need for revenge consumed every part of you, didn’t it, Sam? Every choice you made after that took you further away from Eliza.”

I remember Sam saying he dreamt of Jessica’s death. Did he know that this was gonna happen? That Crowley would come after us? I knew he wasn't telling me something, but I never realized just how dangerous the monsters that Sam fought could be, and apparently, he decided not to warn me. Crowley is making a point that I don’t want to believe: Sam _chose_ to stay away for all those years.

“Alright, Boris, enough with the monologuing.” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Ellie, listen to me; whatever Crowley tells you, you can't believe a word he says."

"Let her hear it from the source then," Crowley says with a coy grin. "Tell us, Sam. Tell Eliza why you never came back, why you chose girl after girl instead of her?"

“It wasn’t like that, Ellie.” Sam’s voice is filled with desperation. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it. “I always wanted to come back to you-to our family.”

“ _Your_ _family,”_ Crowley mocks Sam. “Rumors about a Winchester child went around for years." Crowley directs his next comments to me. "But no one could find her; s _omeone_ went to great lengths to cover up her existence. Had a spell of protection cast over her shortly after she was born. Lucky for me, it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths with that lumbering idiot again."

"Fuck you," I mutter. 

"Eloquent, aren't we?" Crowley chuckles. "You know, I’m normally much more patient, but when I heard about the trials, I just knew it was time to act. All I had to do was give Samantha a nudge here, a well-placed article there, _et voila,_ it was like taking candy from a baby,” Crowley refills his glass. “One of my lieutenants was already in place when those two heaping piles of flannel crossed the town’s lines. You still had so much resentment for your parents you didn’t even notice the change in your father’s behavior, did you, Eliza? Would you like to know the _real_ cause of that accident?”

Crowley sneers as I cut him off with a scream. “No!"

"Oh, _yes_ , darling. Sometimes you just have to pull the strings of fate in the right direction," he snaps his fingers once again, sending lightning bolts of pain coursing through me. "Now let's talk about the little one, should I bring her back and let her watch you die? Or should I leave your body for her to find?"

Panic replaces the pain coursing through me, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Maybe, I'll just turn her into one of my loyal followers.” 

_No, no, no._ I can see the pleasure Crowley takes in my fear. Sam’s voice rings out tense and full of condemnation as he continues to yell at Crowley. 

“I’d have little Cordelia calling me ‘father’ in no time, it would be the ultimate power.”

My body vibrates with rage as he releases his hold. “You stay away from her. I’ll kill you if you lay a finger on her.”

“ _There it is.”_ There’s a smugness in his voice. “I see now exactly why Sam chose you. I didn’t at first, but now, with your _mama bear_ instincts coming out? You are the perfect vessel to carry on the Winchester bloodline. Crowley turns his focus back to the phone in his hand. “What’s it gonna be, boys? You’ve got two minutes to make your decision. Finish the Trials, or save your precious family.”

The tightness around my throat returns, slowly cutting off my air supply. _Please, Cas, help._

“We’ll deal. You stop, we’ll stop.” I can practically hear Sam pacing the floor of whatever room he is in. “Now, let her go.”

“First, we must discuss terms, gigantor. I want the Demon Tablet, the _whole_ Demon Tablet _._ Then we’ll talk about what to do with the girls.” After several moments of strained silence, Crowley grows impatient. “Tick-tock, boys. Little Cordelia could walk in on us at any moment. I’d hate for her to have to watch her mother die. It's an awful thing, isn’t it, Moose? Watching someone you love die right before your eyes.”

"Fine, then we get the angel tablet," Dean’s voice fills the air.

“On what grounds?” Crowley argues.

“On the grounds that you’re a douchebag, and no one should have that much power.”

“Fine. Now about Eliza and the little one,” Crowley’s lips curl as I feel my throat closing.

“They’ve got nothing to do with any of this, we’ve agreed to your terms, now let Ellie go.”

“You’re right, Eliza doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use her in every _depraved_ way I can think of, have a bit of fun with her.”

“Fuck you,” Sam snarls, “if you even think about laying a finger on her, I’ll kill you and every fucking demon that gets in my way.”

“Such a flirt, Samantha. Your dear Eliza is running out of time, and you want foreplay? I'm touched. Once she's gone, little Cordelia will be mine for the taking. Azazel had the right idea; I could make myself a child-army. I wonder, Sam, did she inherit your predilection for demon blood?”

“Listen here, you son of a bitch.”

“No, _you_ listen. You will stop the Trials and give me the tablet, or Moose’s whore is gonna bite the dust. What’s more important? Completing the trials or letting Eliza die? Will you let her become another innocent casualty in your quest to save the world? It’s up to you, Sasquatch, what’s it going to be?”

“Let me talk to her, Crowley,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haziness of my brain.

“You don’t trust me, Moose? I’m hurt.” 

“Prove to me that she’s still alive.” Crowley rolls his eyes, and the grip on my neck loosens. I gasp for air as he brings the phone closer to me. “Ella, talk to me, please, baby.” I choke back a sob. “C’mon Ella, let me know you’re okay.” 

“S-m,” I plead, “don- g- Cordy." Crowley lets out a deep chuckle.

“Ella, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let him hurt you or Corie." 

“One minute _.”_

Tears press against my eyes, and I try to blink them away, not wanting Crowley to see my weakness. 

“Maybe I’ll kill the little one first.” He rubs his thumb against my cheek, brushing away the traitorous tear that slipped free. “Let Eliza watch as I slit her throat.” Crowley's voice is apathetic as it continues to torture me with his words. “Or maybe I’ll just take her with me to Hell; every child needs a father. Start her reprogramming immediately. She’s young enough. I’m sure within a few months, I could make her do anything I want. Now, shall I have her kill you or Squirrel first?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls. 

“Ah, the Winchester Wit, do you think Cordelia has that same mastery of language you have? Keep it up, and you’ll never know. Thirty seconds, Moose."

 _Please, Castiel._ I continue to pray silently as my vision begins to blur. 

"I’ll stop the trials," Sam mumbles, his voice so low I can barely understand him.

"What was that? Louder, Sam, so that Eliza can hear you."

"I'll stop," Sam huffs, "now let her go."

“I just need two little words from you," Crowley’s lips curve into a sneer, and he narrows his eyes back on the phone. _"I surrender.”_

Crowley's fingers curl around nothing, and the pressure around my neck becomes unbearable. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my lungs are burning as my vision tunnels, darkness consuming it, but my only thought is for Cordy. Sam’s voice comes low through the phone, but I can’t make out his words. 

Before the darkness completely takes over, the tightness around my neck loosens, and I take in long deep breaths, coughing as I exhale. Crowley is still wearing a smug smile; Sam must’ve told him what he wanted to hear.

"Pleasure doing business with you, boys." Crowley ends the call and pockets the phone before turning his attention back on me. “This wasn’t personal; you mustn’t believe it was.” He sounds almost remorseful as he brings his attention back to me. “You and the little one were just a means to an end.” With a snap of his fingers, I find myself free from the unseen restraints. “As long as Moose and Squirrel keep up their end, my demons will stay away from you and Cordelia.” Crowley moves to place a hand on my shoulder.

“Touch me, and I’ll kill you,” I growl at him, adrenaline still pumping through me.

“Careful, darling. It may not have been about you, but I meant what I said. I’ll do things to you that will make you wish for death. The boys may have made a deal, but you didn’t. You could be in worse shape.”

“Why?” I mutter. “Why us?”

“I told you, darling, nothing motivates a Winchester better than threatening someone they love. Sam Winchester’s daughter and his former flame? You are the ultimate bargaining chips...”

I tune him out as my mind begins to race. This _—_ this is the very reason why John wanted Sam to stay away. The reason why we could never be together. Dean said it himself, Crowley was using Cordy and me to get to him and Sam. I should’ve never told him the truth. I should’ve let him believe whatever John said to him that night. 

“…next generation of Winchesters. Take care, darling.” he disappears before my eyes, leaving me alone in the empty house. My legs wobble as I stand, and I hold on to the furniture to keep myself upright. I make it to the front walkway before my legs give out, and I collapse against the wall, uncontrollable sobs leaving me. 

I cradle my arm against my chest, and pain radiates from my shoulder with the slightest movement. I know I need a doctor. I foolishly pray to Cas again. Why would Sam tell me to pray to him if it wasn’t going to work? I should’ve known better than to trust that some _angel_ was going to appear to save me. 

Every instinct is telling me to go straight to Cordy and wrap her in my arms. I need to know that she is safe, that Crowley didn’t go after her anyway. Crowley said he had connections everywhere. Could Cynthia or Tom be possessed? Did sending her away do more harm than good? My mind is swimming with worry for her safety. 

My legs shake as I stand back up, and I compose myself as best I can. I wrap my arm as carefully in a large ace bandage, wanting to shield Cordy from the aftermath as much as I can. I’m walking towards the door when I hear a light rapping, and panic starts filling my body again. Crowley had just proven to me that anyone or anything could walk into our house, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Ellie?” A familiar voice fills the air. “It’s Cynthia; Cordy asked me to come check on you.”

I open the door just enough to peer out to confirm it is Cynthia standing there. I pull Sam’s necklace over my head and pass it through the opening, “can you put this on, please?” I say through the small space, Cynthia looks at me curiously but complies. I wait a moment to see if there is any kind of reaction before letting out a relieved sigh and opening the door wider. 

“Ellie!” Cynthia exclaims as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

The night of the werewolf attack replays in my head, and how much it pained me to lie about what happened then, how I have to lie again. 

“Me and my two left feet,” I lie and let out a weak laugh. “Tried to break my fall, and landed bad,” I shake my head and try to keep my voice as steady as I can.

“Hon,” she takes another step forward, gently grabbing my arm. An involuntary hiss leaves me, and tears fill my eyes. Her eyes land on the dried blood, where Crowley lacerated my shoulder. “A fall wouldn’t cause _that_.” A choked sob leaves me; I don’t know how to lie my way out of this. “I think you need to let me take you to the hospital.”

“I c-can’t ask you to do t-that, Cynthia.” I shake my head. I hate being this helpless. “Cordy, I need to see Cordy.” 

“Cordy’s fine, Ellie,” she walks me over to the couch. “She and Ava are watching a movie.” She looks me over again; concern etched on her face. “Whatever happened, Ellie, you can tell me,” Cynthia softens her voice. “If someone attacked you–”

“No one attacked me,” I lie again, knowing I can’t tell her the truth. Cynthia frowns, doubtful of what I’m telling her. I pick something as close to the truth as I can. “When I was a teenager, I survived an animal attack,” I sigh. 

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” Cynthia reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. 

“I’m mostly okay, but it caused me to start having panic attacks. Most of the time, I can calm myself down before they get really bad,” I gage her reaction. “But, my usual methods weren’t working, and I didn’t want Cordy to see me like that, that’s why I sent her over,” she nods as if she understands. “I was trying to get upstairs so that I could take my medication, and that’s when I fell.”

“That doesn’t explain the cuts on your shoulder and neck, Ellie,” she gently pries.

“It’s nothing, really,” I mumble, shaking my head. Cynthia’s forehead wrinkles, and her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t question me further. I lean my head back, and when I close my eyes, Cordy’s worried face is the only thing I can see. My heart begins to race, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Cordy!”

“She’s at my house, Ellie,” Cynthia attempts to calm me, but I jerk away when she reaches out. “Look at me, Ellie,” she demands softly, “where’s your medicine? Upstairs?”

I nod, mumbling “ _bathroom, sertraline_ ,” in between ragged breaths. Cynthia returns with the bottle and a glass of water before I even realize that she’d left. She hands me two pills along with the glass, making sure that my trembling hand has a firm grip on it before sitting down. Once I swallow the medicine, Cynthia takes the glass from me and sets it on the coffee table. She squeezes my hand reassuringly and quietly sits next to me until my breathing begins to even out, and tensed muscles start to relax.

“Let me take you to the hospital, Ellie, I insist.” 

By the time Cynthia and I are back from the hospital, it's almost midnight. My arm is wrapped in a cast and perched in a sling. Cynthia walks us into my living room, setting a white bag with pain medicine on the coffee table. She props pillows behind me as I take a seat before her phone rings. She steps away, and I gather she’s talking to her husband, saying she doesn’t know when she’ll be home and that Cordy would be staying over.

“I can go get her,” I stand up from the couch as Cynthia walks back towards me, putting her phone away. “I don’t want to be a bother to you any more than I already have tonight.” 

“Ellie, please,” Cynthia gently reaches for my good arm. “You need rest, and Cordy’s sleeping already. Let her stay over; it’s only going to worry her more if you come and get her in the middle of the night.”

“Are you sure? I know we haven’t gotten the chance to really know each other yet–”

“Ellie,” Cynthia lifts her hand to stop me. “You’re a single mom, and new around here, and you’ve already had a rough night. I’ve been there, and believe me, I know how hard it can be. Can I call anyone for you?” She asks as she retrieves a pill from the orange bottle, and I shake my head. “No family?” I shake my head again as she hands me one, and I swallow it dry. “No one at all?”

“It’s just the two of us,” my eyes drift over to a silver picture frame. “I’m an only child. My parents died in a car accident a few months ago. Cordy was in the car with them when it happened.”

“My God,” Cynthia gasps. “Ellie, I– I can’t imagine.”

“Thank you, we’re still adjusting, my parents–” I debate whether telling her the whole story. _Maybe another time._ “They were my whole support system.”

“What about Cordy’s dad? Is he around?”

“I don’t want to talk about her dad,” I snap back at her unintentionally. 

“I’m sorry,” Cynthia’s face pinks up with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Guilt rises in me, it’s an innocent enough question, and I know she doesn’t mean to cause the reaction in me that it does. “No, please don’t apologize, you didn’t know. Cordy’s dad and me, it’s–”

“Complicated?” 

“To put it mildly,” I let out a small chuckle, and we both relax. “He wants to be a part of our lives, but his job takes him all over the country, and Cordy needs stability in her life, not a dad who comes and goes.”

She lets out a sigh. “Like I said, Ellie, I’ve been there. If you ever want to talk about it, please don’t hesitate.”

Cynthia stays with me for another hour before going home and promising to send Cordy back first thing in the morning. I’m making my way up to my bedroom when I hear a rustling. My whole body tenses, knowing that just like before, I have no way of stopping another monster or demon from walking into my house. I turn around and see Cas standing in the front walkway, and for a moment, I relax.

“I’m sorry I couldn't have come sooner, Eliza,” Cas’ face remains unreadable as the two times I’d seen him before. As I close the distance between us, my relief is instantly replaced with rage. “But, I was otherwise engaged–” I cut him off with a slap to the face.

“You were ‘otherwise engaged’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shout as I ball up my fist and pound it against Cas’ chest. “Sam said you would come if I prayed to you! Why didn’t you come? Didn’t you hear it?”

“Yes,” His face and voice stay emotionless. “The situation seemed to be under control.”

“ _Under control?”_ My face hardens, and I clench my jaw. It takes all of my willpower not to hit him again. “You call me being attacked in my own home, mine and my daughter lives being threatened ‘under control’? He tortured me just to get to Sam.”

“We had no reason to believe that Crowley was going to come after you. We were told by higher authorities that the demons weren’t aware of you or Cordelia. Clearly, they were incorrect.”

“ _Clearly,”_ I scoff and take a few steps back.

“I understand you’re upset, Eliza,” Cas responds coldly, speaking only in statements of fact. “Sam and Dean will have Crowley in their grasp soon enough; they won’t let him harm you or Cordelia. You must understand, Eliza, this is for the greater good.”

“The _greater good_ is not my concern, Cas. The only thing I care about is my daughter. Do you know what he said to me? What he told me he would do to me? To Cordy?”

“I am sorry, Eliza. The angels assured us you were never in any _real_ danger. If you were, I would have interceded sooner.”

“No real danger?” I gesture to my injured arm, “You call this no danger?”

“I can fix that,” he says and reaches out to touch my forehead.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I slap his hand away. “I can’t believe I ever thought that I could have a normal life with Sam,” I say more to myself than Cas. “He says he wants to protect us, but how is he gonna do that?” I’m rambling, and Cas stands to the side watching.

“Crowley was only using you to get to Sam and Dean,” Cas says as if it should give me some sort of comfort.

“You don’t think I know that, Cas?” I snap back. “He _told_ me. I _will not_ allow my daughter to be used as a way to keep Sam and Dean under control. We will not be pawns in whatever game they are playing at. We’re done. I’m done. Two months ago, Sam scared me enough to think he would hurt me intentionally, and now I find out that they are letting people die, just so what? What is so important that they would let that happen? Tell me, Cas,” I demand.

“Sam,” Cas hesitates. “Sam is completing a series of tests, and when they’re completed, it will seal up the gates of Hell. Crowley doesn’t want that; he needs Earth to fuel his deals and keep his demons satisfied. Ever since he found out about the Trials, Crowley has been doing everything he can to stop Sam from finishing them. I don’t know how he found out about you or Cordelia."

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “He knows, and I’m done with all of you, angels, demons, fucking werewolves, and soul-eaters. If fate was going to bring Sam and me back together, just for this to happen, then fuck fate.”

“Eliza, if I’d have thought that you were in danger, I would’ve been here with you tonight and not allowed Crowley to step through the door.” There’s a sincerity in his voice that I had yet to hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”

“You didn’t protect me at all, Cas.” I throw his words back at him. “None of you did. If I would’ve known something like this would happen, I would’ve lied to Sam.” I let my emotions drive my next words. “I’m done with all of it. _All of you._ Just leave.” 

“I am putting up warding around your house. Neither Crowley nor any other demon will not be able to step inside. I am sorry, Eliza, it was never our intention for any harm to come to you.”

“Sure,” I huff, trying to fight back my tears. “I’m supposed to believe you now? After what happened tonight?”

“I give you my word, Eliza. You and Cordelia will be under my protection from now on.”

“Somehow, I don’t find any comfort in that, Cas,” I grumble. “Please, get out of my house.”

“Eliza,” Cas softens his voice; it’s almost soothing. “I will never ignore another prayer from you or Cordelia.”

“I can’t–” I choke out. “Please, go.”

“You _are_ safe now, Eliza. Both of you are safe.” Cas hesitantly nods and reaches out, gently squeezing my shoulder before vanishing with a rush of air.


	14. Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean work to complete the final Hell Trial.
> 
> This Chapter contains dialogue from 8x23, "Sacrifice"

Sam’s POV

Two days later, we meet Crowley in a junkyard; it takes every ounce of my willpower not to beat him to a pulp. I wanted to leave hex bags in Ella’s apartment, but Dean insisted the anti-possession charms would be enough. We should’ve known that she wasn’t going to be safe, but when Crowley started going after people we saved, Cas had convinced us that Jody was next.

“It’s simple, really,” Crowley says, gesturing to the contract. “You stop the Trials and hand over the Demon tablet. I’ll leave your precious Eliza and Cordelia alone, and you’ll have the Angel tablet.” Dean takes a step closer, grabbing the scroll. “Oh, no, Squirrel, Moose is the one doing the trials; he’s the one who’s going to sign.”

“Not until I read the fine print,” Dean snaps back.

“I’ll sign it,” I mumble as I take a step closer, grabbing the long scroll.

“You wanted me here; I’m here.”

“What’s this, boys? Lovers quarrel?”

“Shut it, Crowley,” Dean barks. “I’m not gonna let him screw us over again.”

“That hurts, Squirrel,” he mocks us. “Now, if you're satisfied with the terms of the contract, let’s have the big galoot sign it, shall we?”

Dean is only inches away from Crowley, and as soon as he thinks I’ve started to sign, the click of the handcuffs wipes the smirk off of Crowley’s face.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Demonic handcuffs, jackass,” Dean gestures down the handcuffs. “These are going to keep you from smoking out, flicking out, teleporting. Oh, and _no deal._ Basically,” Dean’s fist connects to Crowley’s jaw, “you’re our bitch.”

“Fine,” Crowley throws his own punch, and I can see a faint smile on Dean’s face. “You’ve saddled yourself to the wrong bull, mate.”

“I can go all day, you know why? ‘Cause _damn_ it feels good. Get used to it, douche, cause your demon ass is about to become a _mortal_ ass.”

“What’s he on about?” Crowley’s eyes dart to me, a look of confusion and panic as I take pleasure in telling him what’s about to come.

“It’s you, Crowley. _You’re_ the third Trial.”

Kevin is pacing in the library when we return to the bunker, Crowley blindfolded and gagged. Dean walks him down to 7B, and Kevin is nearly having a panic attack when his eyes land on Crowley.

“What is he doing here?” Kevin screams, “Why? Why did you bring him back?”

“Kevin, listen. Until we can figure out how to cure him, we need to keep him here. We can’t let him go.” I can see the tears brimming in his eyes. “The faster we can figure out the cure, the faster we can make him pay for all the evil shit he's done.”

Kevin and I have our noses buried in books when Dean returns from the dungeon. I can still hear Ella’s voice in my head, screaming out for help, Crowley’s words torturing both of us. _Every choice you made drove you further away from Eliza._

“Have you heard from Cas?” Dean asks as he sits down with three beers in his hands.

I pull out my phone, hoping that Ella will return my calls, she’s shutting me out, and I can’t blame her. I should’ve shown her how to protect herself and Corie. All the symbols she needed were on the sheet of paper that Corie had drawn on the day she left the hospital. Any one of those could have protected her from Crowley’s attack. Would she ever forgive me for putting her in that situation, one that could have so easily been prevented? Crowley was going to pay for everything he’d ever done.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, I can see a questioning look etched on his face. “Cas?”

“Uh, no,” I mumble as I put my phone back into my pocket. We needed to find a cure and quick; it was the only way to get back to Ella and Corie.

Hours later, Kevin and I are surrounded by a mountain of books, pouring through the lore looking for anything that may tell us how to _cure a demon_. Dean’s asleep on the table, softly snoring when Cas enters the bunker. It’s been over a week since we’d seen him, stationing him with Jody after Crowley killed Sarah, Cas insisting that Naomi and the other angels were watching over Ella and Corie.

Dean jolts awake when Kevin drops another large set of books on the library table, grumbling about ‘ _first decent sleep in day_ s,’ as he makes his way out of the library. I give Cas a tight-lipped smile, and he nods; there is something off about him. Usually, I can’t read his face, but today, he seems to be hiding something. Dean meets Cas in the war room, and I can hear hushed whispering between them. I run my hands through my hair as I pull another book in front of me, but I can’t focus on the text, every line bleeding into the next. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean’s body stiffen; _that can’t be good_. I leave Kevin, instructing him to keep searching as I join Dean and Cas.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s done,’ what the hell is that supposed to mean, Cas?” Dean’s fingers are pinched at the bridge of his nose as Cas stands in front of him.

“Eliza feels that she and Cordelia’s safety was put in jeopardy and that we allowed Crowley to attack her in her home.”

“You told her we didn’t know, right?” Dean huffs. “That we wouldn’t’ve let Crowley come anywhere near them if we thought–”

“I told her that we were assured that she was safe. Eliza didn’t care for my answer. I don’t know how Crowley tracked her down.”

“‘Tracked her down?’ Cas, are you saying that Ellie and Corie left Weldon?” I thought Crowley was fucking with me. Ella wouldn’t have moved without telling us; she promised not to run away.

“I gave Eliza my word that I would not-”

“Cas, if they left Weldon, we need to know. If they’re gone, then that means that they don’t have any type of protection,” I argue. I knew we should have done something more than leaving them the necklaces. “We can’t protect them if we don’t know where they are.”

“Eliza and Cordelia have left Weldon.”

“Fuck, Cas!” I want to hit something, someone. “You weren’t even going to tell us, were you?”

“Sammy-”

“No, tell me. You were going to let Ella and Corie just drop off the face of the earth and not say anything?” My head is spinning. She’d made good on her threat; she took Corie and ran. “Why?”

“I do not believe Eliza's intent was to hide,” Cas says cautiously. “If Sam had kept in contact-”

“Are you saying that this is my fault?” I roll my shoulders, standing up to my full height. “Crowley’s attack is on me?”

“I am merely suggesting-”

“Ellie wanted space,” Dean clenches his jaw, “so we gave her some fuckin’ space. You had _one_ job, Cas, and that was to keep an eye on her and make sure that she and Cordy were safe.”

“I was watching her, Dean,” Cas sighs. “Ever since the accident-”

“Cas,” Dean snaps. “If you were protecting her like we’d ask you to, then we could’ve stopped Crowley from ever walking into her house, but you insisted that no demon knew about either of them.”

“I have it on good authority that Crowley wasn’t made aware of Cordelia’s existence until recently.” Cas shifts his body towards me. “From best we can tell, he had a spy in that hospital. You don’t think that every demon under Crowley’s command doesn’t know who you are the second they lay eyes on you? Anyone working for him could have connected the dots.”

“So, it _is_ my fault,” I murmur, moving backward before the back of my legs hit the map table, and I slump back against it. “All this, it’s my fault.”

“Sammy, you can’t think like that,” Dean rubs his hand down his face before turning his attention to Cas, his frustration with him becoming more apparent. “What if another demon tries to go after them, Cas? What’ll Ellie do then?”

“I warded her home against everything. She’s safe now.”

“How’s Ella?” I don’t know why it takes me so long to ask such an obvious question, how it wasn’t the first thing out of my mouth when Cas walked through the door. My eyes lock on my hands, picking at a nail, unable to focus on anything else. “Is she okay? What about Corie?”

“Cordelia was not in the house. I offered to heal Eliza, but she refused to let me. She was upset when I left her.”

“What did Crowley do to her?”

“The psychological damage inflicted on her is more my concern,” Cas explains.

Crowley had tortured us all with his words. He twisted everything that had happened over the last ten years, things I hadn’t had the chance to tell her about. I would’ve told her about it all eventually, explained why I didn’t try to come back sooner. I wanted to, desperately, but I felt undeserving of her love. Ella was one of the few good things that I had in my life, and I couldn’t let my uncleanliness taint her innocence _._ When Kevin first deciphered the Trials, and I accidentally completed the first one, Ella became my light at the end of the tunnel. She and Corie deserve a life of peace. I have to do whatever I can to make the world a safer place for them. Once I finished the trials, I would’ve told her everything, hoping that she would be able to forgive me.

“I wouldn’t have allowed any _true_ harm to come to either of them, Sam.” Cas closes the space between us and rests his hand on my shoulder. “As soon as I was sure Jody was safe, I went to Eliza; she prayed many times.”

“She prayed to you?” I turn slightly to face Cas, unsure if I’m hearing him correctly. I had told both Ella and Corie to call on him if they ever needed anything. When Crowley was with her, I kept hoping that I would hear Cas intervening at some point. When I didn’t, I figured that Ella had forgotten my words, but if she prayed, why didn’t he stop it? “Ella, she prayed, and you still didn’t do anything?” Cas’ eyes dart between Dean and me, and I feel as though I’m about to explode with rage. “You told us that if either one of them prayed, you would go to them. That was your job, Cas, not wait around to see what would happen!”

“If I intervened sooner-” I can’t listen to anything else Cas has to say; I move away from the table and am headed towards 7B before I even realize it.

Crowley is cuffed and chained down in the middle of the devil’s trap; a smug smile creeps over his face when I lock the door behind me.

“I was hoping you’d join me, Moose,” he taunts. “What? No Squirrel? Oh, this _will_ be fun.”

I close the distance in just a few steps, my fist connecting with Crowley’s jaw. He laughs dryly as I pull back and throw another punch, this time to his stomach. I need to do something that’ll make him hurt, make him pay for everything he’s done. Crowley doesn’t flinch, letting me hit him over and over again. I can hear pounding on the door as I swing again, Dean’s voice calling out, but I can’t stop, I won’t stop.

My knuckles are bloody and raw when I feel arms wrap around me, pulling me away from Crowley. I struggle against the powerful grip as Cas drags me back like I am a small child. Dean appears in front of me, yelling at me to calm down, but his voice is a distant echo, as my focus is still on Crowley.

I relax for a moment, and Cas loosens his grip, and I shove him off me. Dean tries to stop me, but I knock him to the floor. A glint of silver catches my eye, and before I can even process a thought, I snatch the weapon from the table. Crowley chuckles as I press the edge of the angel blade against his throat.

“You threaten my daughter? The mother of my daughter? And what? You’re going to sit here and laugh about it?” I growl, slowly raking the blade across his neck, watching as blood seeps out.

“Oh, you have _no_ idea,” Crowley’s lips curl into a grin. “She was ready to do anything to get me to leave her and the little one alone, _anything,_ Moose.”

“Don’t listen to him, Sam,” Dean grunts from behind me.

“And she would’ve done it. She put on a brave face, but she was _willing,_ Sam. She knew you weren’t going to save her. Just another person you’ve let down, eh Sasquatch?”

“Shut up; you’re lying.” I tower over him, putting more pressure on the knife.

“I guess we’ll never know, will we, Samantha? Shall I tell you the things I plan to do to little Cordelia?”

“Sam,” Dean grabs my arm firmly, “he wants you angry; he doesn’t want you to complete the Trial,” he rationalizes. “You kill him now, and everything we’ve been working for the last few months goes down the drain. We’ve come too far to stop now.”

“He deserves to die,” I grunt as Dean pulls me away from Crowley. “For everything, not just Ella and Corie. All the shit he’s done since we’ve known him, Purgatory, Leviathans, Tommy, Sarah, Samuel, holding Bobby’s soul in Hell. He should pay for it. For _all_ of it.”

“He will, Sam. When we’re done, he’ll no longer be the _King of Hell_ ; he’ll be a regular person. But you have to finish this last Trial, Sammy. That’s how we make him pay.”

“What do we do?”

* * *

It takes several long days of research, but we finally learn how to complete the third trial. Dean, Kevin, and I are stunned into silence as we listen to the recording of Father Thompson and Peter Kent, a man possessed who then killed his children. One dose of purified blood every eight hours, followed by the final exorcism, Peter Kent was no longer a demon; he was human again. I read through Father Thompson’s notes. We could do this; all we need is the consecrated ground.

We find an abandoned church less than an hour away from the Bunker. It’s in the middle of nowhere; it’s the perfect place to complete the Trial. Crowley stays locked inside the trunk of the Impala as we prepare the church. Dean makes a large Devil’s Trap while I read over the Enochian text, committing it to memory. Once we are both satisfied that the church has enough warding, Dean marches Crowley in, tying him tightly in a chair in the center of the room.

Crowley begins to taunt me again, and I leave the church under the guise of gathering supplies out of the Impala.

“I was thinkin’,” Dean says as he walks closer to meet me at the trunk, “maybe you should give Ellie a call.” Dean closes the trunk. “It’s been months, man.”

“No,” it pains me to say it, “I can’t.”

“Just try. Tell her you’re sorry for everything, and when all this is over, you want to be with her.”

“Ella won’t answer,” I sigh. “You heard Cas. She wants nothing to do with me anymore. Whatever chance I still had with her went flying out the window the second Crowley showed up at her house.”

“C’mon, man. You had no way of knowing–”

“That’s the point, Dean!” I shout. “I should’ve known, we both should’ve known! We– _I_ left her, defenseless; didn’t even show her how to make a fuckin’ Devil’s Trap.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I didn’t show her how to test anyone around her. Wherever she is, she could be surrounded by Crowley’s fuckin’ minions, and she wouldn’t even know it, Ella could still be in danger.”

“Cas warded her house,” Dean offers, “she’s safe.”

“We both know that isn’t true, Dean,” I try and fight back the tears that press at my eyes. “As long as Crowley’s around, Ella and Corie won’t be safe. He’ll find some way to use them against us.”

“Sammy.”

“Ella didn’t ask for this life, Dean. She doesn’t want a life full of demons, monsters, angels. She just wants a normal, _safe_ life, and she had it before we took that case. From the second we stepped foot back in Weldon, we put Ella and Corie in danger.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself, Sam,” Dean argues.

“I’m gonna make sure she gets the life she’s always wanted, even if it doesn’t include me.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow, and his forehead wrinkles. “When we’re done,” I sniff, wiping away the tears that escaped, and clear my throat. “I’m gonna get Cas to erase their memories.”

Dean’s eyes narrow as soon as my words leave me; shock and anger quickly replace his previous confusion. I realize my mistake immediately; Dean would never let me or Cas do such a thing.

“No _,”_ he says firmly. “You’re not going to do that to Ellie and Cordy.”

“So Cas can erase Lisa and Ben’s memories–”

“That was different,” Dean runs his hands over his face, and I know I’ve hit a nerve with him. “Ellie and Cordy, they’re your family, _our_ family. I know you, Sam, better than you know yourself, and it’ll kill you never to see them again. What about what Ellie wants?”

“Did you ask Lisa what she wanted?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, but I don’t back off. Lisa and Ben were the closest things he ever had to a wife and kid. “No, because you knew what she would say. You did the only thing you could to protect them.” Dean grimaces; he knows I’m right. “I have to keep them safe, Dean.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Dean sighs. “When this is all over, Crowley’ll be human, and all those sons of bitches will be locked away.”

“I’m not going to put them in danger again, Dean.”

“And you won’t. Sammy, let’s just get through this trial. Then, we’ll track down Ellie, find a way to make it work.”

* * *

I try to keep myself steady as I lean in to inject Crowley for the second time. As I stick the needle in his neck, he bites me, and I let out an annoyed shout as Dean rushes to my side. “Really, Crowley? Biting?”

Dean walks us out to the Impala and inspects the wound. I look up to see that Dean’s focus is less on the injury and more on my face. I can see him studying it, realizing how much it’s changed over the last few weeks. I’ve lied to Dean and myself about how much the Trials have been taking a toll on me, but looking into his eyes tells me that no matter how much I want to, I can’t hide my pain from him.

“Cas say when he would be back?” I break the growing silence between us.

“No. Maybe once he’s finished doing whatever it is he’s doing, we won’t have to deal with those dicks anymore either,” Dean laughs weakly.

Cas appears outside the church after I finish my confession, asking Dean for his help. He explains that Metatron found a way of putting Heaven back in order, but Cas is the only one who can do it. Dean and I both know that Cas has felt guilty about what has happened over the last two years. Killing Raphael, letting the Leviathan’s out of Purgatory, it was complete anarchy in Heaven from what he had told us.

Dean refuses, insisting on staying with me, ‘ _if anyone needs a chaperon, it’s Sam’_. He didn’t say the words maliciously, but I cringe at the thought of him not being able to trust me to complete this one on my own. Dean is my rock, the only person I’ve ever been able to rely on, he’s the one who’s always been there for me, and I can’t let him or Ella down again.

“You think he can do it, fix heaven, or whatever?”

“If anyone can, it’s Cas.” Dean opens the Impala’s trunk and pulls out a gauze pad and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Knock knock,” he smirks, pulling the same move that he did when we were kids. I roll my eyes at him, “C’mon, Sammy, knock knock.”

“Who’s–” I hiss as the alcohol hits the bite marks on my skin. Dean chuckles slightly, clearly proud of himself as he finds a large bandage and wraps it around my wrist.

“Call Ellie, Sammy,” Dean looks up from my wrist and meets my eyes.

“ _Dean_ ,” I sigh.

“Just try.”

“I did!” I shout, yanking my hand away. “After we left Weldon; I reached out, I told her I was sorry, I told her that I loved her. You know what she said? _Take care of yourself_. She didn’t tell me that she wanted us to work out, that she wanted me around.”

“Sammy–”

“Ella was pissed, and she had every right to be, you said it yourself, I scared the crap outta her that night. I listened to you and gave her the time and space that she asked for so that she could sort everything out. I left her alone after that.” I take a few steps back. “I tried calling and messaging her every day since Crowley attacked her, she won’t answer. No matter what I say or do, she doesn’t want any part of it. She's _choosing_ to not speak to me, and I can’t blame her. The least I can do now is finish the Trial and let Ella and Corie move on with their lives. She’s better off without me; they both are.”

“Sam,” Dean brings his hand down over his face. “They’re not, you know that. Don’t be like dad, don’t push them away because you’re afraid of losing them. You’ll never forgive yourself if you walk away from Ellie and Cordy again.”

“Fuck you,” I grumble. “I didn’t walk away the first time. I let one of the people I’m supposed to trust more than anyone else in the world manipulate me. You keep taking dad’s side.”

“Sammy, I’m– I’m not, but dad didn’t make you leave.”

“You wanna know what happened that night?” I ask. Dean still doesn’t know the whole story, and he nods slightly. “I came back from Ella’s house, and I told dad about Stanford. He said that I was abandoning you. All I wanted was to go to college and have a couple of years of a normal, safe life. When I told him that Ella was going with me, he said she couldn't, that I would be accused of kidnapping her. I stood my ground and told him that she was coming with me and nobody was going to stop us. I had to tell him first, Dean, about the baby, and when I did, he fuckin' lost it. Said that Ella was trying to trap me, called her a slut, and the baby wasn't mine. When we got back in the morning, he convinced me that Ella had decided to have an abortion and that she didn’t want to see me again.”

“Sam–”

“No,” I shake my head. I know what he’s about to say. “You’re not going to tell me that he was keeping them safe. Not when he kept in contact with them for years– _years,_ Dean. Dad robbed me of the chance to know my daughter and then weaved a story to Ella, making her think he was the good guy, like he hadn’t said those awful things about her. Corie would’ve known him if he hadn’t died; what would’ve he told her about me, about us? If he wanted to shield them from our enemies, he would’ve stayed away, just like he wanted me to. They would’ve been safe with me; _I_ could’ve protected them from everything. The second Crowley started torturing her to get us to play his game, I knew the only way to make sure that it never happened again would be to remove myself from their lives completely. I’m not _walking away;_ I’m keeping them safe the only way I can.”

“I need your help, Dean,” Cas appears suddenly with a rustling.

“Cas, I told you already. I need to be here with Sam.”

“You should go,” I mumble, “seriously.”

“What, and leave you with the King of Hell? No way.”

“Sam must complete this Trial on his own. You cannot assist him.”

“Keep giving the injections,” Dean orders. “If I’m not back in time for the bloody fist, you finish it, you hear me? No questions, no hesitation.”

I nod, and Dean gives me a half-hearted smile. He and Cas disappear before my eyes, and I walk back into the church.

With every injection, Crowley is becoming weaker. It takes five injections for him to start breaking down, admitting his failures; he almost seemed human. The injections aren’t just curing Crowley. They’re doing something to me, too; I can feel my body breaking down. With every passing hour, we’re both growing weaker.

“I didn’t know about the little one, Moose,” Crowley murmurs as I pull the needle out of his neck. “Not at first.”

Crowley is as close to human as he will be before the final injection. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s saying. “What do you mean, ‘not at first’?”

“I knew about the girl; everyone did,” Crowley lifts his head slightly. “She was the one I’d been watching.”

“Why?” How did he know about Ella and not Corie? Cas said the angels knew from the beginning,

“The two of you were always destined to meet. She was always going to be the one to carry your children. Lillith made it all of the Loyalists’ priority to ensure that you would meet. Think about it, Sam, the case that brought you two together all those years ago, you knew that there was something off about it. But once you and Eliza had met, all your reservations went out the window.”

I feel my entire body vibrate with rage. Cas talked about our paths being destined to cross again, but was it all contrived? Did I ever have any free will?

“You weren’t to meet for years, but Lucifer instructed Lillith to speed up the process. Cordelia was under powerful protection. Someone found a witch to cast a spell over her before she was born, and she was made invisible to us. Eliza was protected as well, but we already knew about her, and it was only a matter of time before she left that small town of hers,” Crowley rasps. “It was Naomi, Moose. She was the one who told me about the little one.”

“ _Naomi,_ was your informant?” I huff, “why? Cas said that the angels were told to keep her existence a secret. Why would she tell you about them?” I question the weakened demon. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You said it yourself, Sam. If we’d known, we would’ve used them to our advantage years ago.” Crowley sighs, and I don’t know whether or not to believe him. “I wouldn’t have hurt her, Sam. I would’ve treated her as if she were my own, _Cordelia,_ _Princess of Hell_.”

“If you weren’t going to hurt her, then why tell us you would?”

“I had to keep your Eliza compliant, and she would’ve done anything to protect Cordelia,” Crowley lifts his head, and I can see how close he is to being human again. “Nothing is more sacred than a mother’s love for her child; there are few bonds greater. The only thing comparable is her soulmate. Like when your mother made a deal with Azazel to save your father and then sacrificed herself for you when Azazel walked into your nursery. Acts of pure love,” he mumbles. “I want that Moose. I deserve love; _I deserve_ to be loved!”

“You deserve nothing, Crowley,” I murmur. “And once we’re done, I’m going to take pleasure in killing you myself. You saw what I did to Brady? That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

I expect some witty retort from Crowley, but he doesn’t speak; he only stares at the ground. Watching him break down, so close to being human, knowing that I’ll be able to get my revenge for everything, makes me feel better than I have in months. I have to finish this, for Ella, for Corie, for Dean. I can’t let them down again.

I grab Ruby’s knife, ready to complete the ritual. This is it; closing the gates of Hell that I was responsible for opening all those years ago. No more Crowley, no more demons, and if Cas succeeds, no more angels either.

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra._ ”

“Sammy, stop!” Dean’s thundering voice causes me to jump. “There’s been a change in plans, Metatron lied. You finish this trial, you’re dead.”

Before Dean ever voiced the words, I knew that there was little chance of me getting out of this alive. If my life is what it takes to close the gates of hell, then I will give it. It's the least I can do to make sure that Ella and Corie can live the rest of their lives in peace. Dean can look after them, show them how to protect themselves from monsters. Bobby and Rufus have safe houses all over the country; I know I can trust Dean to keep the only family we have left safe.

“So?” I mutter, closing the gap between Crowley and me. “Look at him!” I turn around, coming face to face with Crowley again; the King of Hell, now a blubbering mess. Crowley doesn’t look at me but turns his attention to Dean. As if Dean is the one who can save him, but he’s too far away, all I have to do is give him the final dose of blood. “Look how close we are! Other people will die if I don't finish this.” Dean stares at me wide-eyed, stunned, as he takes in my words. The only reason he let me continue with the Trials was that I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. These Trials were supposed to be my way out of hunting. “I have to finish this for them, Dean. I have to keep Ella and Corie safe.”

“Listen to me, Sammy.” Dean raises his hands in surrender. “I know you want to keep them safe, but this isn’t the only way to do it. Ellie and Cordy, they need you, Sam, even if they don’t know it. You finish this trial, and you're taking away Cordy’s chance to know you. You’re making Ellie’s choice for her.”

I pull away from Crowley and mull over what Dean says. I shake my head and weigh my options. Is Dean, right? No, Killing Crowley and closing the Gates of Hell is the only way to keep my family safe. Seeing my momentary hesitation, Dean takes a step closer.

“Sam, think about everything we’ve learned since we started: rescuing a soul from Hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a hellhound. We have a real chance to turn the tide here, but I can't do it without you.”

“You can barely do it _with_ me.” I choke on my words, feeling the tears press against my eyes as I fail to fight them back. “Ella hates me. She won’t ever forgive me for Crowley.”

“You don’t know that, Sam,” Dean argues gently, taking another step forward.

“Ella and Corie, they’re better off without me, all of you are. If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t even need to close the gates. It’s my fault they were opened in the first place. It’s my fault that Lucifer got outta the cage; thousands of people are dead because of me.”

“Sammy _.”_ Dean shakes his head. “You gotta know that isn’t true.”

“You’re still pissed about _Ruby_ , Dean. About me losing my soul, killing Lilith. You think I’m a screw-up, that I need a chaperon.”

“C'mon, man, that's not what I meant–”

“It's _exactly_ what you meant,” I cut him off. “Do you wanna know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down, Ella down. I can't do that again. You wanna know why I never told you about Ella and the baby?” Dean’s face softens. “I didn’t know how to tell you, of all people, that I was going to leave it all behind. Ella and I, we were going to start over in California. I wanted to marry her, live a safe life, just the three of us. How was I supposed to tell you, the one person I’ve always been able to count on, that I was going to leave the only life I’d ever known?”

“Sammy–”

“I was scared to tell dad because I knew that he’d be pissed, tell me that I was irresponsible, and all that bullshit. But you– _you_ raised me, Dean, you were more my parent than dad ever was. I couldn’t disappoint you again, and I couldn’t risk that you would take dad’s side over mine.”

“Just hold it. Hold on,” Dean bellows. “You seriously think that? Because none of it, _none_ of it, is true.” Dean takes a step forward, and I keep the knife pressed against my palm.

“You just stood there when dad said if I left I couldn’t come back. You’re my big brother, and I thought if anyone could’ve helped me with Ella and the baby, it would’ve been you. I lost everything that night, not just Ella and the baby, but you too. And I only got some of it back when you turned up in Palo Alto.” Dean frowns. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to her, to either of them. I never got to have a real talk with my daughter. I never got the chance to tell Corie that I thought about her and Ella every day for the last ten years and that leaving was the biggest regret of my entire life.”

“Sammy, all you have to do is stop, and you can tell her. We’ll go there right now.”

“We can’t, Dean.” I let the knife slice through the skin of my palm. The glowing in my arms becomes brighter, and pain radiates through me. “Ella left Weldon and took Corie with her, she ran away from her home town and took my daughter with her. They could be on the other side of the fuckin’ world for all we know.”

“You’re right. But _he_ knows.” Dean gestures at Crowley behind me. “He can tell us where they are.”

“Ella doesn’t want me around, Dean, don’t you get that?” I huff, moving backwards towards Crowley. “She doesn’t trust me to keep her or Corie safe. They deserve better than some fuck-up like me in their lives. I’ve only ever let them down. I’m not going to do it again.”

“We can fix it, Sam. You, Ellie, and Cordy, you belong together. We’ll find her, find Cordy. We’ll teach them everything they need to know about protecting themselves. I’ll get you your apple-pie life, brother, but you gotta trust me, okay? You gotta stop.”

“I _do_ trust you, Dean. I always have,” I mumble. “I’ve always been able to count on you, my whole life, you’ve been the one who’s always been there for me. But what happens when you decide I can’t be trusted again? Will you take Ella and Cordy away, hide them from me? Who will you turn to? Another angel, another- another vampire?”

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean shouts. “You can’t believe that’s true, any of it! I know that we’ve had some disagreements. Hell, I know I’ve said some things that sent you back on your heels. But Sammy, c’mon, I killed Benny to save _you_. I’m willing to let this bastard and all the other sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of _you_.” Dean takes a step closer, and I can see the tears in his eyes. “Don’t you dare think there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you. You gotta see that, okay? I _need_ you to see that.”

“What about Ella? Corie?” I sniff.

“I’ll get you back to them, Sammy, I swear to God. I will do everything in my power to keep the three of you together for the rest of your lives.”

I can feel the blood from my palm drip onto the floor as I consider Dean’s words. If I can be back with Ella and Corie, everything will be worth it. But, the overwhelming _need_ to make Crowley human again consumes my thoughts. My instincts as a father are taking over; I have to do everything I can to keep Corie safe.

Dean’s voice sounds muted, strangled; I can barely hear him as he continues to shout at me. I repeat Father Thompson’s exorcism a final time as I move back to Crowley’s side and put my hand over his mouth. _‘I did it,’_ I murmur before the darkness consumes me.


	15. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Trials, Dean reaches out to Ellie. Dean is willing to do whatever it takes to save Sam, but will he push Ellie too far?

Ellie POV

I take a deep breath as I pull out my phone and set the timer, setting the test next to two others. _Stupid_ , I chastise myself, _putting yourself in this position again._ I lean against the counter before sliding down onto the floor, still being mindful of my arm. I stare blankly at the wall and let my mind wander. We were careless, so caught up in the moment, nothing else seemed to matter at the time. What were the odds of this happening again? The thought hadn’t even entered my brain until after Crowley’s attack. It’s been over a week, and I can still hear his words as clear as the day he said them. _Sam didn’t come back to you, choosing girl after girl. Would you like to know the_ real _cause of your parent’s accident? You are the ultimate bargaining chips._ He must’ve known; it would explain his taunts about having Cordy call him ‘father.’ The buzzing of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, I expect to see the timer, but it’s Dean’s name popping up on the caller ID. I reject the call without a second thought; he and Sam are the last people I want to talk to right now.

I haven’t even had the chance to put my phone back down before it starts vibrating again. A glance tells me it’s Dean calling again. “ _It’s 7 am, Dean,”_ I grumble, staring down at my phone. Whatever is causing him to reach out after nearly three months of complete silence must be important, at least to him. I hesitate briefly before rejecting the call.

I check the timer, _two minutes._ Crowley’s voice is in my head, and I’m back to that night again. _Your precious Eliza is running out of time, Sam._ As soon as we moved in, I was going to reach out to Sam, tell him I was ready for him to be a part of mine and Cordy’s lives. We still had our issues to work through, but Cordy had expressed more than once that she was ready to know him, and at the time, I started to forgive him. Sam repeatedly called after Crowley had left me, but Crowley’s words were all too fresh in my mind.

I peer into my room to see Cordy sleeping soundly in my bed. She’s afraid to leave me at night, something that I can’t blame her for. As I watch her sleep, my mind drifts back to the morning after Crowley’s attack.

* * *

_I was trying to keep myself calm as I read through Sam’s multiple apology-ridden messages. I didn’t care that he was sorry; it couldn’t make up for the fact he and Dean had left us so utterly vulnerable to their enemies. I watched from the living room window as Cordy walked back over; I didn’t know how to explain my injury to her and how much of the truth I could tell her without further traumatizing her. I couldn’t lie my way out of it, but demons were not something I knew how to explain to a ten-year-old. Tears welled in Cordy’s eyes the minute she caught sight of me; she could see through my forced smile, she ran to me and wrapped her arms tight around my waist._

_“Hey.” I tried to soothe her, using my good arm to rub a hand down her back. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” I half lied. “Couple of months, and I’ll be good as new.”_

_Cordy’s grip briefly loosened when I moved us onto the couch, I couldn’t pick her up like I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to stop her from crawling into my lap and burying her head into my shoulder. I let her weep against me; through her sobs, I heard a muffled ‘mom.’_

_It had been weeks since she’d called out for mom or dad when she was scared. By the time we had moved, her nightmares about the accident had become fewer and farther in between. Cordy had taken to climbing into my bed and letting me lull her back to sleep whenever one had woken her up._

_“I know,” I whispered, trying to keep my tears at bay. “I miss them too.”_

_Cordy pulled away, her face blotchy, eyes blood-shot, and shook her head. “You’re my mom, Ellie,” she mumbled. “I do-don’t wanna lo-lose you too.” Cordy splutters through her tears. “You-you’re all I– I have le-left.”_

_I choked back a sob; she’s right; we only have each other. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t count on Sam to be there if something ever did happen to me. Cordy already lost one set of parents; I didn’t want to think about her losing Sam or me._

* * *

The vibration of my phone causes me to jump as it brings me back to the present. I sigh as I look down at the phone, rejecting the call. “ _Take the hint, Dean,_ ” I mutter to myself. I check the timer, _thirty seconds._ I reach for the first test and vaguely remember an x-ray technician asking me if there was any possibility of me being pregnant. At the time, I didn’t even think about it; my night with Sam was the furthest thing on my mind.

I mindlessly chew away at my fingernails as the phone vibrates again, and I silently plead for it to stop. Relief floods through me when it does; maybe it’s finally gotten through to Dean that I don’t want to speak to him. The timer chirps and I grab the test off the counter and cover the results box with my hands. I close my eyes for a brief moment, praying that somehow I’m wrong. I take a shuddering breath as I slowly open my eyes, letting them land on the word ‘ _pregnant_.’

Dean’s name briefly fills the screen again before I reject the call, setting my phone down on the tile. Surely he’ll get the message that I am intentionally not answering. I pull the second test off of the counter, _pregnant._ I don’t bother with the third. Even if somehow it was negative, the two positive pregnancy tests can’t both be wrong. I choke back a sob as I run through all of my options in my head. I can’t believe this is happening again. _What am I going to tell Cordy? What about Sam?_ We weren’t in a good place when he left—that _stupid fight._

The loud buzzing doesn’t just annoy me this time; it makes me want to pick up my phone and throw it against the wall. I grab my phone off the floor, and for a brief moment, I think of smashing into hundreds of pieces. I shake the thought out of my head before contemplating whether I should answer the call, my thumb hovering between the red and green circles.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Dean,” I say before ending the call, not giving him the chance to respond. I look back down at the test again, praying, willing it to change. I know it won’t, it was the first time I had sex in months, and of course, it’s with Sam _fucking_ Winchester who had to go and get me pregnant. “Perfect vessel for Winchester children,” I mumble and let out a dry laugh. _I wonder if the angels knew about this one,_ I chuckle to try to keep myself from crying, but the tears fall anyway, and my laughter quickly devolves into sobbing. _Pregnant. Again._ My phone chirps, **6 missed calls - Dean Winchester.**

“ _Fuck_ ,” I mutter as his name pops up again. I push the bathroom door closed, not wanting to wake Cordy. I clear my throat and wipe the tears away, taking a long and calming breath before accepting the call. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Ellie, don’t hang up, please, just–” Dean sighs, “I know you’re pissed, and you have every right, but–”

“ _Pissed_ is the understatement of the year.”

“Ellie–”

“The fucking _King of Hell_ showed up on my doorstep. Came into my home and threatened the lives of both my daughter and me.” I hiss while trying to keep my voice down. “You know, I actually believed Sam when he said that Cas would show up if I prayed to him. Do you wanna know how many times I prayed for him to help? He did nothing, showing up hours later, giving some bullshit excuse about us not being in ‘real’ danger.”

“I–”

“What’s your excuse, Dean? Are you calling to apologize? You think that’ll make it all better? I don’t want your apology.” I can hear him huffing in anger on the other end. “Have a nice life, Dean.”

“Wait just a goddamn minute, Ellie,” he snaps before letting out a loud sigh and softening his voice. “I– I’m sorry. You have to believe that we didn’t know. If we even thought there was a _chance_ of Crowley... we wouldn’t have let it happen. Sammy and I would’ve shown you how to protect yourself. Ellie, Sam has more guilt about Crowley than you’ll ever know. We didn’t think he knew about you or Cordy.”

“He said he’d been watching me for weeks,” I say, memories of that night playing in my head. “ _Weeks,_ Dean.”

“You would have been safe if you had stayed in Weldon,” Dean grumbles.

“The phone works both ways, Dean,” I murmur, trying to lessen my own guilt about leaving. “If you or Sam had bothered to keep in touch, you’d have known that we were planning to move.”

“Bullshit, Ellie,” Dean growls. “You stopped responding to Sam’s messages the day we left Weldon. You didn’t want to accept his apology, and at the time, as much as it broke him, he understood. You had no intention of telling us that you were moving. You can spout out crap about us not reaching out to you, Ellie, but you said it yourself, the phone works both ways.”

I let Dean’s words sink in. I’d threatened Sam with taking Cordy far away from him, but that wasn’t what the move was about; Cordy and I needed a change. I was able to leave so much of my baggage behind. I didn’t have to lie anymore; I didn’t have to carry the shame that my parents had made me feel for years.

“ _You_ asked for space, for time, and we were– _are_ trying to respect that. You asked us to leave Weldon, and we did. I practically had to drag Sam outta there. He didn’t wanna leave you again, but I got his ass in the car, and we left. And all I heard from Weldon to Lebanon was how he wanted to tell you how sorry he was and that he was afraid that you would feel abandoned by him. It killed him to leave you and Cordy; you two are the only family we have left, and then you moved away without a single word. If you’d told us that you were planning on leaving Weldon, we would’ve found a way to protect you and Cordy. If you weren’t ready to be around Sam, we could’ve sent another hunter to protect you and Cordy.”

“We shouldn’t _need_ protection, Dean. For _ten years,_ we didn’t need protection. But the moment Sam steps back into my life, suddenly Cordy and I are targets for _your_ enemies,” I let my eyes fall back on to the test in my hands. “I have to protect my family, Dean, and if that means Sam can’t be a part of our lives, then so be it. I refuse to live in constant fear that something like that could happen again. I’m not going to be some damsel in distress. I told Cas; Cordy and I are not bargaining chips.”

“The Crowley who attacked you doesn't exist anymore, Ellie. He's no longer the King of Hell; he's nothing more than a regular human. Crowley can't hurt you or Cordy ever again.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that’s true, Dean.”

“It is, Ellie.” Dean sighs, “Cas told us he warded your house. Wherever you are, you and Cordy are safe. I give you my word.”

“Your word isn’t the one I want, Dean. _You’re_ not the reason Crowley came after us; Sam is. All of it was about him and me.”

“You don’t think that I care–?”

“I know you do, Dean,” I sigh, “but you’re on the phone with me instead of Sam. You’re the one playing peace-keeper. _Sam_ should be the one telling me all of these things, not you. If Sam wants me to forgive him and think about letting him back into mine and Cordy’s life, then I need to hear it from him.”

Dean is silent on the other line, and through the static of the phone, I can hear a muffled voice coming through a speaker. A deep breath cuts through the silence before he speaks again.

“Sam’s– Sammy’s hurt, Ellie,” Dean’s voice hitches as if he’s trying to keep himself calm. “It’s– it’s bad.” Suddenly, all the background noises I’ve been hearing make sense. “He was doing okay for a couple of days, but then he took a turn for the worse. Sam’s…” Dean trails off briefly, and I fear that I already know what his next words will be. “You should be here, Ellie, you and Cordy. Sam needs his girls by his side.”

I smile briefly at Dean’s words before my heart falls into my stomach. There’s something he isn’t telling me, and every breath I try to take becomes more difficult. I grip the test tighter in my hands, and I try to let go of all of my anger that had been residing in me since the night we fought. I regret the last words spoken between us, fueled by rage and fear; _we don’t need you;_ I should’ve taken the words back.

“Where are you?”

“Linwood Memorial Hospital in Randolf, New York.” Dean doesn’t hesitate.

“New York? You’re not in Kansas? I thought–”

“Randolf, New York,” Dean reiterates, “Linwood Memorial Hospital.”

I tell Dean that I will have to get a flight to him, and he insists on giving me a scammed credit card to pay for it. A part of me almost doesn’t want to take it, but after seeing how much such a last-minute flight would cost, I accept it.

I call the school as soon as I hang up with Dean, explaining that Cordy will be out for at least the rest of the week. The receptionist seems to understand, reminding me to reach out to her teachers for lessons and homework.

I step into my closet, grabbing two bags, and begin packing my belongings as quietly as I can. I set my bag down at the top of the stairs before repeating the process in Cordy’s room. I place Cordy’s bag next to my own before glancing back into my room. Cordy’s still sleeping, arms tightly gripping her teddy bear. I don't want to wake her, not yet, so I gently close my bedroom door before making my way downstairs. When I open the front door, there’s nothing but the sounds of nature greeting me. A few of the houses are bathed in an orange light where the sun is just barely peeking over rooftops. I step out onto the dewy grass, setting the bags down. I relish in the quiet of the neighborhood for a moment and let myself get lost in thought.

“Ellie,” a low voice says as their hand lands on my arm.

“Jesus!” I yelp, balling my fist and ready to throw a punch. I turn quickly to see my neighbor, Jason, standing behind me.

“Whoa! Sorry,” Jason puts his hands up in surrender, and I unclench my fist. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Someone oughta put a bell on you,” I laugh slightly. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

“I called your name a couple of times,” he shrugs. “I guess you were off somewhere else?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I nod.

“Here, let me help you,” Jason picks up the two bags. “Looks like you’re makin’ a break for it.”

“I guess you could say that,” I shrug and walk towards my car, Jason matching my steps. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me we’ve scared you outta the neighborhood already?” Jason chuckles. “Is it Old Lady Nelson?” I try to speak, but he playfully cuts me off. “She’s a witch, you know.”

“Is she?” I raise an eyebrow and pop the trunk. “What kind of witch? Do I need to keep a bucket of water on hand?”

“No, more like the fortune-telling kind,” he grins, slowing his steps, before stopping at the trunk. “She paid me a visit the other day and said I would meet someone.”

“Oh?” I ask as he sets the two bags down, and he nods his head. Suddenly, I’m painfully aware that he’s flirting and that I may be unintentionally encouraging it.

“She said that she would have a-” Jason’s blue eyes dart around me, “a robin’s nest in her yard. Oh!” He dramatically yells as I close the trunk. ”Will you look at that?” He points to the robin’s nest and winks. I shake my head; we both know it was there long before I moved in. “So whaddya say, Ellie? Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

“Cut right to the chase, don’t you?” I tease him. “Listen, Jason, I think you’re really nice, but–”

“ _But_ ,” Jason sighs and frowns slightly, “you’re not interested?”

“I’m– I–” I don’t know how to describe my relationship with Sam. He isn’t my boyfriend, but he’s more than just the father of my daughter. “I’m _with_ someone, Cordy’s dad. We’re going to be visiting him for the next couple of days.”

“Shit, Ellie, I’m sorry,” Jason runs his hands through his short hair and gives me an embarrassed smile. “Cynthia told me you were single and has been pushing for me to ask you out. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have–”

“We have a complicated relationship,” I laugh weakly. “‘Sides you deserve someone who doesn’t have a mountain of baggage.”

“Well, if _Mr. Complicated_ doesn’t wise up, he better be prepared to put up a fight for you,” he teases, and a slight tinge of pink fills his cheeks. “I don’t give up easily, and baggage doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re sweet,” I reach for his arm and gently squeeze it, “but you hardly know me. For all you know, I could be some stage five clinger psychopath or– or an assassin.”

“Then we’ll be two peas in a pod,” Jason smirks, stepping closer to me and brushing a stray hair away from my face. For a moment, I lean into his touch, but I stop myself.

“I have to go,” I exclaim and run back into the house, slamming the door behind me.

I scold myself as I pace my living room. _Sam’s in some hospital, and you’re outside flirting with the neighbor?_ The clock on the wall catches my attention, _8 am,_ we have to leave soon.

“Ellie?” Cordy’s scratchy voice pulls me out of my thoughts; she looks to be on the verge of tears. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry.” I close the gap between us and let her settle against me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve had a busy morning. You and me, we’re going on a trip.”

“Really?” Cordy’s face lights up, “what kind of a trip?”

“We’re gonna visit Sam,” Cordy’s smile grows; this is something she’s wanted for the last month. “He’s sick,” I explain, and Cordy’s smile fades.

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“I hope so, kid. But I don’t know, that’s why we’re gonna go see him.”

*********************************************************************

When we arrive in Randolf, it’s almost 9 pm. Cordy and I are exhausted, unused to this kind of travel. It makes me wonder how Sam and Dean live in the Impala for hours and sometimes days on end. The hospital’s visiting hours will be over by now, so I send a message to Dean, letting him know that we are staying at a hotel for the night. He tells me that he has already added us to Sam's visitor list and that he would be under the name _Dougherty_. I crawl into the large bed, Cordy’s already sleeping soundly, and let my mind wander.

 _Sam is going to make it out of this, isn’t he? Will he be happy when I tell him about the baby? Will he come back to Lawrence with us when all of this is over? Will he walk away from Dean for the three of us? Will Dean_ let _him?_

It’s still early when a turning in my stomach makes me bolt towards the bathroom, emptying my stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Ellie?” Cordy calls from outside the bathroom, and before I can muster out an answer, I feel the bile rising in my throat again. “Ellie? Are you okay?”

“Go back to bed, Cordy,” I say more harshly than I mean to. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When I open the bathroom door, Cordy is still standing there, tears filling her eyes. “Are you mad at me?” She asks as a tear slips out.

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I crouch down and meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sick too?” Cordy sniffles.

“No,” I shake my head. “I’m– I’m gonna have a baby.”

* * *

Guilt overwhelms me as I pull into the hospital’s parking lot; I need Sam to know that I still love him, that all the words exchanged weren’t how I truly felt. Ten years of thinking he had run away, and the anger that exploded from us both drove my words. I know, deep down, that Sam wouldn’t have left if he’d known the truth. We were scared kids and didn’t know how not to believe the words of our parents. I know that if either one of us could go back, we would.

Even though Cas changed her memories, Cordy’s body tenses as we step into the hospital. She grips my hand tightly as we walk to the main desk and check-in. I ask for Sam _Dougherty’s_ room, pulling out my ID and handing it to the receptionist. She smiles warmly as she hands over the visitor passes she printed for us.

“I need to ask you something, Cordy,” I say as I kneel to place the badge on the front of her shirt. “When we get up to Sam’s room, do you want to see him?” She fidgets at the mention of being in a hospital room. “You don’t have to; it’s your decision.”

“I don’t know,” she answers sheepishly. “If you want me to-”

“No, kid. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. It’s okay if you don’t,” I squeeze her arm. “I know we’ve talked about you getting to know Sam as your dad, but you’ve only met him a couple of times. If you’re not ready to see him, I’m not going to force you.”

“Is he gonna look scary?” She murmurs, looking down at the floor.

I don’t know how to answer the question. Dean said he was hurt badly. If Sam wasn’t going to get better from this, I don’t know if I want her one of her only memories of him to be attached to machines, bruised, and broken. If she’s only going to have one real memory of Sam, let it be of the day that he visited her after the accident.

“How ‘bout,” I offer, “I go and see him first, by myself. And if I think he looks too scary, I’ll tell you.”

“Sammy isn’t gonna be mad?” Cordy looks up to meet my eyes.

“No, of course not,” I say firmly, “he wouldn’t want you to be afraid.” She nods and grabs my hand as we head up to Sam’s room.

I leave Cordy just outside Sam’s room. She looks around for a moment before I hand over my tablet and headphones, letting her drown out the noises of the hospital. I hesitate to leave her, and when a nurse volunteers to sit with her, I graciously accept. I place a kiss on her forehead, whispering _one four three_ in her ear before heading into Sam’s room. I peer into the open door of the room. Sam’s long frame fills the bed. He looks emaciated; his face bruised, eyes and cheeks sunken in, and skin stretched taut over his bones.

Dean’s at his side, hunched over; I can see his mouth moving but can’t make out anything he’s saying. I wipe the forming tears away, knocking softly on the door. Dean jumps slightly at the sound, and a look of relief washes over his face when he sees me.

“Ellie,” Dean frowns when he catches sight of me, his eyes immediately fall on my broken arm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around me. “Cas said he tried to heal–”

“What happened, Dean?” I pull away from him, focusing my attention on Sam. “How did he get this bad?”

“Did Cas tell you what we were trying to do?”

“Said something about closing Hell Gates,” I can’t take my eyes off of Sam’s body. Dean leads me to a chair, letting me sit down before moving to the opposite side of the bed. He grabs a second chair, pulling it around so that he’s sitting next to me.

“Yeah. What we didn’t know when Sam started them is that to complete the Trials, Sam would have to die.” Dean looks back over to Sam. “I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to convince him to stop, Ellie, but he wouldn’t listen. He _couldn’t_ stop,” Dean seems to be reassuring himself just as much as me. “The only reason he’s probably still alive right now is that he collapsed before he could finish it.”

“Where’s Cas? Can’t he do something?” I ask, hopefully. “He can heal Sam, can’t he?”

“Sam’s been too damaged for months for Cas to do anything,” Dean sighs. “Tried to help a while back, and even then, he couldn’t do anything. I haven’t let that stop me, Ellie,” Dean offers a sad smile. “I’ve tried praying, but Cas won’t answer.”

“What about another angel?” I’m desperate, taking Sam’s lifeless hand in my own. “Cas can’t be the only one who can help.”

“The thing about angels, Ellie, is most of ‘em are dicks.” Dean lets out a pained laugh. “And they’re not exactly fans of Sam and me. Most won’t help even if they can.”

“You have to do something, Dean,” I plead. “You can’t let him die. You said you’d watch out for him. He can’t die, not now; I need him. Me and Cordy, we need him.”

“Ellie.”

“You’re friends with a freaking angel, you know the _King of Hell_ , but you can’t do anything to save Sam? You’re not trying hard enough, Dean.” I direct all of the guilt I’m feeling at Dean; a part of me knows it’s not fair to him, but I can’t help it. “All this will be for nothing if he’s gone. You tried to stop him and now look at him,” I direct my attention back to Sam.

Dean silently takes my verbal lashing, his emerald eyes filling with tears.

“Screw you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Sam is _my_ brother, and we’ve been through more shit together than you will ever know.” I can hear the pain in Dean’s voice, but he remains calm and quiet, and I notice him discreetly wiping a tear away. “I’ve watched him die too many times already, and I wasn’t gonna let it happen again. I couldn’t let another Winchester grow up without a parent; me and Sam, we practically raised ourselves. Cordy deserves to have both of her parents raising her.”

“Dean–”

“You don’t know how messed up Sam got, Ellie!” Dean’s face reddens, and his voice starts to rise. “He was about to die, and he didn’t even care! If you’d heard what he said in that church– He thinks that you and Cordy are better off without him; that you can just replace him. He’s _not_ replaceable, Ellie. I was trying to talk him off a ledge, and you wanna know the worst part? I’m the reason he got so messed up. _I_ was the one that was supposed to be doing the Trials, not Sam. I could’ve finished them, and he could’ve finally gotten out. I had to save my brother; I will always do whatever it takes to save him. You can put the blame on me for how he is now, but don’t act like you wouldn’t have at least _tried_ to stop him if you were there.”

“Dean,” I can barely speak, “I’m sorry. I just–”

“D’you know what he’s wanted since we were kids?” Dean doesn’t wait for me to respond and focuses back on Sam. “A normal life. He never wanted to be a hunter, follow in dad’s footsteps; he wanted to be his own person. I’m the one who dragged his ass away from Stanford, I’m the reason he wasn’t there when Jessica was murdered, and I know that deep down, a part of him will never be able to forgive me for it. Sam had his chance at normal, but he gave it up for me. If I hadn’t pulled him into that hunt, he probably wouldn’t have come back. He’d be living some apple-pie life with you or Jessica; married, a couple of kids running around, a dog, house with a white picket fence.”

“I don’t have a white picket fence,” I say softly, garnering a small chuckle from Dean. “But, I want all that with him. I want him around, to be a father to Cordy and- and...” I stop myself from saying any more, reluctant to tell him about this baby as well. If I tell him and Sam doesn’t make it through this, I can’t have Dean as a looming presence in Cordy and this baby’s life, reminding all of us of something we can never have. “Before Crowley, I was ready to find a way to make it work with Sam. After Crowley left, I was so scared, Dean, so angry. I still am, but I want us to move past all that. Cordy’s ready to know her dad.”

“Cordy knows?” Dean asks, his eyes going wide at my confession, “I thought you were– You said you didn’t want to tell her, that you wanted to wait until she was ready?” Dean’s brow furrows, and I can hear the anger in his voice. I had insisted to both brothers that Cordy wasn’t ready to know the truth, but now, only a few months later, she was suddenly ready?

“I was,” I focus my attention back on Sam, and I can feel the daggers Dean is staring into me. “That morning, after you left? That box of photos was still out,” I explain. I could tell he thought that I’d lied to him that night. “I’d meant to put them away, but after everything that happened, I was exhausted and pretty much passed out on the couch. When I woke up, Cordy was going through it and started asking questions. She was putting everything together before I could even come up with an excuse. The kid’s too smart for her own good,” I chuckle, and Dean relaxes slightly. “It was rough; Cordy was angry and confused, but she’s adjusting, we both are. She’s been getting used to the idea, and for the last month, she’s been asking me about getting to know Sam.”

“I’ll find a way to get him back to the both of you,” Dean promises, reaching out to give my hand a firm squeeze. “I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Dean and I sit in silence for a few minutes before a doctor joins us. He explains the extent of Sam’s injuries: _massive internal burns, oxygen deprivation, the coma is Sam’s last resort of self-preservation._

“He’s dying,” Dean mutters.

“If he continues on this trajectory, I’m afraid so. The machines may be able to keep him alive, but with injuries such as these–”

“There isn’t anything you can do?” I question the doctor.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s in God’s hands now,” the doctor smiles at me sympathetically.

“ _God’s hands?_ ” Dean huffs, and his face hardens. “You’re a medical professional, and you’re telling us that my brother’s life is in _God’s_ hands? What, is that supposed to be some sort of– of comfort?”

“Dean,” I sigh, “he’s just saying–”

“No, Ellie,” Dean snaps at me. He immediately gives me an apologetic smile before standing up to meet the doctor at the edge of the bed. “ _God_ has nothing to do with this equation. If I wanted to leave it up to God, I wouldn’t have brought him here in the first place. Do your job, save my brother.”

The doctor doesn’t flinch at Dean’s verbal assault, taking it as gracefully as one can. He apologizes again before leaving us alone. Dean refuses to sit back down, pacing around the room and muttering under his breath. I focus back on Sam, squeezing his hand tighter, praying for some kind of response to show that he’s still there, fighting his way back to Cordy and me.

“You have to fight, Sam,” I lean in and whisper. “I didn’t mean what I said that night; I was angry and scared. We _do_ need you. You can’t leave Cordy and me, not like this.”

The room is silent, save for the heart monitor beeping steadily and my sniffling. Dean has stopped pacing, and when I look up, he’s staring at Sam and me, waiting as much as I am for some kind of sign that Sam isn’t giving up. I wipe my tears away and take a long, calming breath before speaking.

“Cordy’s outside,” I say as I leave my seat. “I’m– I’m gonna talk to her, see if she wants to see Sam.”

Dean nods slightly, and as I walk by him, he pulls me into a hug, “I’ll find a way to fix this, Ellie,” he reassures me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get him better again.”

When I get back to Cordy, she is intensely focused on the tablet in her hands. I take another long inhale, hoping that I can hide the evidence of my tears. I playfully tug at her headphones, pulling her attention away from the tablet, and I see she’s watching a video from a channel called _Ghostfacers_.

“Learn anything interesting?” I ask as I take the seat next to her.

“Nah,” she shrugs and turns off the tablet, “those guys are weirdos.”

I laugh as she puts the tablet back into my bag. I try to figure out the best way to breach the subject of Sam to Cordy.

“How’s Sammy?” Cordy asks as if she can read my mind, and I give her a tight-lipped smile.

“He’s– He’s not doing okay.” I try to think of a way to explain his condition to her, something that will make sense. “You know how sometimes when you’re sick, you just want to sleep?” Cordy nods. “Well, right now, Sam is really sick, so he’s gonna stay asleep until he’s better.”

“How long is Sammy gonna sleep?” Cordy questions innocently. “Are we gonna stay until he wakes up?”

“I– I don’t know, kid,” I tell her honestly. “It could be days, weeks, or,” I struggle with the next words, “Sam may never wake up.”

Cordy seems to understand what I’m saying, and I’m thankful that I don’t have to say the words, ‘ _Sam’s dying.’_ I don’t push her to respond, letting her think over whatever she may want to say next. I keep my own conflicted feelings at bay; half wants to take her back to Lawrence and never talk about this ever again; the other half wants her to go in and see him so that at least she can get a proper goodbye.

“Can I see him?” Cordy asks after a few moments of silence. “Would that be okay?”

“If that’s what you want, kid,” I grab her hand in mine and gently squeeze it before walking us back towards Sam’s room.

Dean’s still pacing the floor when I walk in; Cordy stays behind me, gripping my hand tightly. I try to move forward, but she pulls back against me, stopping at the doorway. Dean peers around me before closing the gap between us and crouches down to meet Cordy at her eye-level.

“Hey, Princess, do you remember me?” Dean asks sweetly.

Cordy smiles and nods, “Ellie says you’re my uncle.”

“That’s right,” Dean’s eyes shine with pride. “I’m Sammy’s big brother. Do you know what big brothers do?” he asks, and Cordy shakes her head. “We protect our little brothers. We don’t let anything happen to them.”

“Can I talk to him?” She looks between Dean and me. “Is that okay?”

“Sure, kid,” I smile weakly.

Cordy lets go of my hand and makes her way to the empty chair by Sam’s side. Dean gives my arm a reassuring squeeze as I walk by, and I sit in the chair that he previously occupied. Cordy doesn’t say anything at first, seemingly studying Sam silently, she wasn’t one to normally shy away from a conversation, but this is a new experience for her.

“Why don’t you tell Sam about school?” I suggest, knowing that once she starts talking, it’ll be hard to get her to stop.

Cordy nods before explaining in unbelievable detail about her teachers and classmates. She tells him all about our new house and how she decorated her room because _she’s not a little kid anymore_ , which causes a small laugh from both Dean and me. She speaks non-stop for what seems like hours, telling Sam everything he would ever need to know to become integrated into our lives.

“Definitely Sam’s kid,” Dean jokes from the edge of the bed, listening just as intently as Sam would. Cordy doesn’t pay any attention and goes right back to chattering.

After a few minutes, Dean gets up and gestures for me to join him outside the room. He tells me he has a plan, that it could be our only hope to save Sam, and gently orders me not to let anyone else into the room until he gets back. I want to pry for more details, but it must be a long-shot or something dangerous if Dean’s not giving them.

When I walk back into the room, Cordy is telling Sam how she hopes that he will be awake for her birthday, and my heart breaks. Unless Dean can pull off some miracle, Sam won’t recover from this; his body is far too damaged.

When Dean returns a half-hour later, a bruise is blossoming on his cheek as if he’s been in a fight, and a large man follows closely behind him. Something about him is unsettling, and Cordy stops speaking when she sees him, leaving her seat to move into my lap.

“Ellie, I think you should take Cordy outside,” Dean suggests, and the man eyes the two of us.

For a moment, I want to protest, but Dean hardens his face, and it seems that he’s as wary of this stranger as I am.

“Okay,” I nod, getting out of the chair and grabbing Cordy by the hand. She tugs against me and takes a few steps towards the head of the bed. She leans over so much that only her toes are touching the ground and does her best to hug Sam and places a kiss on his cheek. If I had any less control over myself, I’d be a sobbing mess at the sight—damn hormones _._

I give Cordy a small smile when she turns around and returns her hand to mine. I settle her back into the same seat before returning to Sam’s room.

“Dean? What’s going on? Who is this?”

“My name is Ezekiel,” the man faces me, “I am not here to harm you or your daughter, Eliza.”

“How do you–”

“Angel,” Dean answers before I can finish asking my question. “He’s here to help, right?” Ezekiel nods. “Even cut-off from Heaven, you can still heal him, can’t you?”

“Your brother is very weak.”

“No, no,” Dean growls, “I saved your life, and you said you could help. That was our deal: I fight, you save.”

“Please,” I say, stepping closer to Ezekiel. “You can’t do anything?”

“There are no good ways, I’m afraid.”

“Then what are some of the bad ones?” Dean says. “He’s dying, let’s hear ‘em, good or bad.”

Ezekiel explains that he can help _from the inside._ I watch as Dean contemplates what Ezekiel says, looking to me for some kind of relief. I shake my head, and I tell him I don’t understand.

“Possession,” Dean explains.

“It is your decision, Eliza, and yours, Dean,” Ezekiel sits down.

“No, it’s not,” Dean murmurs. “It’s Sam’s. He’d never say yes to being some angel’s meatsuit.”

“I understand, but without my help, your brother will die.”

Dean turns his attention to Sam and sighs, “do it.”

“Dean,” I pull him towards me. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“He can fix Sam, Ellie!” Dean argues. “This is the only solution I can think of that doesn’t involve something worse.”

“Worse than you letting some angel _possess_ him?” I question in disbelief. “I know you want to help him, Dean. But this isn’t the way, tell me you don’t know that.”

“What, you want to leave it in _God's_ hands _?_ Just wait and see if _maybe_ he comes out of this? Those Trials– The person completing them is meant to die; it’s supposed to be the ultimate sacrifice. I say Sam’s sacrificed enough in his life. He deserves to live, Ellie.”

“I don’t want him gone either, Dean, but this should be his choice, not yours or mine. You know him better than anyone. Do you think this is how he’d want you to save him? He wouldn’t want this, Dean. _I_ don’t want this.”

“You told me to fix him, that you want to keep him in your life, Ellie. That’s what I’m doing.”

“I know, but–” I turn my gaze to Ezekiel and then back to Sam. “This isn’t right, Dean. You know it isn’t.”

Dean shrugs me off of him and steps closer to Ezekiel, and they begin talking in hushed tones. My eyes land on Sam, and for a moment, I consider what Dean is saying, thinking that it may be the only way to keep Sam in my and Cordy’s lives. I watch Ezekiel; his voice is too low for me to make out any exact words. There’s something he’s not telling us. Ezekiel repeats his offer.

“He’d never say yes to you,” Dean murmurs.

“But he would say yes to you or Eliza,” Ezekiel offers, his eyes land between us. "If you want me to help Sam, we must act quickly." Despite his words, there is no urgency in Ezekiel's voice, no emotion. "Your brother doesn't have much time."

"No," I murmur, shaking my head when Dean faces me. "You're not going to use me to manipulate Sam. There's gotta be another way, Dean."

“There's not, Ellie," Dean sighs. "You heard the doctor; there's nothing more they can do."

"That's not what he said, Dean," I argue, even though from what we were told, there was little chance of Sam recovering. I have to hope that somehow he can get better. "People wake up from comas every day. There are new therapies–"

"They will not work, Ellie," Ezekiel states matter-of-factly. "The damage done to Sam's body cannot be healed by mere mortals. Sam _will_ die unless you allow me to help."

"If I’m going to consider this, you show me, _prove_ to me how bad he is," Dean's desperate; we both are. Ezekiel moves, placing one hand on Sam and the other on Dean, and both men go still for a few moments. I stand there, unable to do anything but watch as the heart monitor beeps become further apart.

"What're you doing, Sam?" Dean says barely above a whisper. He turns to face me again, and I can see the fear and panic playing on his face. He turns back to Ezekiel. "Go in as me to convince him."

"Dean!"

“Tell him I gotta plan, that he has to trust me," Dean ignores me and instructs Ezekiel. "And– and that he has a kid that needs him."

I can’t take it anymore, and I don’t want to be anymore complicit in Dean letting Ezekiel possess Sam than I already am. Dean and Ezekiel are too caught up in their conversation to notice me walking towards Sam. If Dean wants Ezekiel to save Sam, he's not going to use us to do it.

I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “I’m sorry.” I squeeze Sam’s lifeless hand and place a kiss on his forehead. "One four three."

I don’t say anything else to Dean or Ezekiel and reluctantly leave the room. I try to keep myself calm when I get back to Cordy, giving her a pained smile that I hope she doesn't see through. She doesn’t question me when I take her hand in mine and begin walking us towards the elevators. I know I’ll have to explain why we’re leaving at some point, but I can’t do it now, not when I can hardly wrap my brain around it.

We’re halfway down the hall when I hear Dean calling after me, I do my best to ignore it, but it becomes more difficult when Cordy points it out as if somehow I don’t hear him. Dean's voice continues to follow, and I can see Cordy giving me a questioning look out of the corner of my eye.

“Ellie!” Dean’s hand lands on my shoulder, only moments after we reach the elevator bay. “Don’t leave, please, I’m begging you,” he pleads. “It’s the only way.”

"You're not doing this in front of Cordy, Dean," I scold him before turning my attention to Cordy. "Go take a seat over there, please," I gesture to a row of empty chairs.

"But, Ellie–" Cordy tries to protest.

" _Now_ , Cordy." She pouts, and once she is far enough away that she can no longer hear us, Dean tries to start in again, but I beat him to it. "How fucking _dare_ you. You think I'm gonna let you use Cordy and me to trick Sam into letting some,” I lower my voice as a staff worker walks by, “angel possess him?”

"I’m doing this for you, for Cordy.”

“You’re doing this for _you_ , Dean,” I argue back. “You don’t even know this guy. He could be lying to you. How do you know he’s not going to just–” I can feel myself getting worked up and take a deep breath. “I might not know anything about angels, but you can’t tell me that Ezekiel doesn’t seem to be a little off?”

“So, what, you just– just want to let him die? You're ready to just give up on him?” Dean’s face grows red, and his forehead crinkles.

“Stop it, Dean,” I snap. “I want him back too, but this isn’t the way.” I take a deep breath. “I'm not okay with this, Dean, and you know Sam wouldn't be either."

“What about Cordy, everything you've told me? You want her to grow up without her dad?”

“Screw you, Dean.” I bite back, the palm of my hand connecting with his cheek. “Cordy is _my_ kid and the most important person in my world. I won’t let you guilt me into thinking you're doing this for her.”

“We’re outta options, Ellie. What else do you want me to do? I can’t– I _won’t_ walk away when there’s a chance to save him. Sam’ll–”

“Sam will never forgive you, Dean.”

“He might be pissed at me for the rest of his life, but at least he’ll be _alive_ , Ellie.”

"I can't stop you, Dean. But if you go through with it: making Sam's choice for him, then you're making mine too." I call out for Cordy, and she joins me by my side again. "Say goodbye to Dean," I instruct her gently, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don't do this," Dean whispers, and I shake my head, twisting slightly to press the button on the wall. I can't stay, not when I have two other people to think about. "Please."

Cordy hesitantly places her arms around Dean and mumbles goodbye to him. When she steps back, I lay my hands on her shoulder and pull her closer to me so that she can't see the tears slipping from my eyes.

"Goodbye, Dean," I say as I hear the doors ding open and turn around to step into the elevator. Dean's emerald eyes are filled with tears as I face him a final time. "I hope you make the right choice," I whisper as the doors close.

As we exit the hospital, Cordy questions why we’re leaving, and I struggle to find an answer. We'll be back on a plane to Lawrence tomorrow, and I do everything I can to evade her questions about Sam, eventually settling on _Sam may never wake up._

We are walking into the house when a backfiring car sends me over the edge. Cordy helplessly watches as I’m thrust back into my memories of the night of the werewolf attack; its amber eyes staring me down, its claws swiping at me, how I had to lie to everyone about what happened, how I still have to. Sam never leaving my side until we were pulled apart by my parents.

My whole world is crashing down around me, and all I want is Sam. I want to feel his arms around me again, telling me that everything will be okay. I want to sink my body into his, taking solace in his comforting embrace, and let myself get lost in him. I want him to be with us forever, having the family he’s wanted since I told him I was pregnant all those years ago.

 _My_ Sam may be gone forever, and the only thing I can do is pray that Dean made the right decision.

* * *

**Three Years Later**

“Cordelia Mary!” I yell from the bottom of the stairs. “Your butt better be down here in five minutes.”

“ _Mo-om!_ ” I hear her door opening, and she steps onto the landing. “That’s not enough time–”

“Too bad, kid,” I huff. “I mean it, Cordy, five minutes, or I'm taking your phone away.” A grumbled _okay_ comes from the top of the stairs. I head back towards the kitchen, blue and green orbs watching me as I walk back in. “What’re we gonna do about her, Sammy?” I laugh as I bend down and scoop him up in my arms. “No ideas, huh?”

"You yell at sissy." He giggles when I nuzzle into his neck and blow raspberries on his chubby cheeks. “Sissy in t’ouble?"

"No, baby. Sissy isn't in trouble," I sit him down in his chair and run my fingers through his chestnut locks. Sammy’s eyes widen, and a smile forms when he looks behind me.

Large hands wrapping around my waist cause me to jump back and let out a yelp. I turn around to a cheeky grin; he’s obviously very proud of himself.

“You jerk,” I swat at his chest, trying to retain my serious demeanor, which becomes harder to do as Sammy’s laughter fills the kitchen. Warm, comforting arms pull me closer to him. I let my hands settle on the back of his neck, curling my fingers in his hair. He leans down to place a tender kiss on my lips, letting his two-day scruff scratch against my lips. “I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.” I roll my eyes playfully at him.

“You say that, but,” his lips move to the shell of my ear, “we both know _exactly_ why you put up with me.” He pulls back and gives me a wink. His hand leaves my waist and delicately takes my left hand into his, kissing the diamond ring still settling on my finger. “‘Sides, you love me, and you know it.”

“ _Love?_ ” I scoff, trying to hide my smile. “I don’t know if I would say _that_. Not if you insist on sneaking up on me all the time.”

“Sammy saw me, didn’t you?” I turn in his embrace, letting my back settle against his chest, and his arms stay tight around me. Sammy giggles and shakes his head. “ _Traitor,”_ he whispers.

I curl my hands around his arms; it has taken us so long to get here, something I never thought would happen. The watch on his wrist alerts me to the time, and I gently pull away from him, making my way back towards the stairs.

“Cordy! I’m serious!” I yell up the stairs, “You’d better be down here in two minutes!”

"Do you want me to talk to her?” he asks as I walk back into the kitchen. He’s sitting down next to Sammy, cutting fruit into halves as Sammy tries shoveling the food into his mouth. “See what the problem is?"

"She's a teenager; _that's_ the problem," I laugh, taking a seat at the table. “Didn’t think you’d be here three years ago, did you?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrows in confusion.

“Raising a teenager _and_ a toddler with someone who works ridiculous hours and has serious abandonment issues,” I keep my tone light, but he knows the insecurity behind my words.

“Ellie,” Jason reaches for my hand and gently squeezes it. “I told you a long time ago, I don’t give up that easily. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t have pursued you for as long as I did,” he says with a chuckle. “I love you, Ellie; Cordy and Sammy, they may not be mine, but I’ll never treat them any different than if they were. I’m never gonna walk away from you or them.”

Cordy is downstairs just as I’m about to call out for her again. She chatters away as she eats her breakfast, only to be interrupted by Sammy’s need to chime in. She placates her little brother, and we all listen intently as he struggles to connect one thought to another.

“C’mon, kid,” I stand up from the table, “it’s our turn to carpool; go get Ava.”

She quickly gets out of her chair and places a kiss on Sammy’s cheek. She lets Jason pull her in for a quick hug before grabbing her backpack and making for the front door. I lean down and place a kiss on his lips before doing the same with Sammy. By the time I’m outside, Cordy and Ava are both in the back seat, deep in conversation.

I drop the girls off at school and make my way back home, ready to sleep for hours and thankful that I have the next two days off. Jason plans his schedule around mine so that one of us can be home with Cordy and Sammy more often than not. On a day like today, when I’m coming off a twelve-hour shift from the hospital, he’ll leave late in the morning and come back in the early afternoon. I find it comforting to know that I will never have to worry about him not returning from a job.

Jason and Sammy are sitting on the living room floor when I walk through the door, watching some kids show that I can’t quite place. I laugh to myself when I notice that Jason seems to be just as invested as Sammy. I take the opportunity to sneak up on him, and Jason nearly jumps to his feet when my hands land on his back. Sammy lets out a loud, high-pitched squeal and claps his chubby hands together, laughing as Jason chuckles.

“Consider that your payback,” I giggle as he turns around, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he lands a playful swat on my ass.

"You'll pay for that later," he teases before leaning forward to press a kiss on my lips.

I sit with them for as long as I can before exhaustion starts to overpower my will to stay awake—damn midnight shifts _._

I make my way upstairs and crawl into the comfort of my bed, allowing sleep to finally take me. The bed dips and the warmth of a body where there was once cold causes me to stir, and I roll over, opening my eyes to meet Jason’s blue ones. I smile sleepily as he presses his lips on my forehead and tells me that he’s put Sammy down for his nap. I pull his face downward, allowing him to kiss me properly. Jason holds me close, pulling me flush against him, letting me take comfort in his warm embrace until I’m asleep again.

“Mama.” Sammy’s small voice wakes me, and I open my eyes to see him reach for the edge of the bed, his curls matted on one side. “Wake up, mama!”

“Hey, baby,” I coo, trying to shake the hoarseness away. I swing my legs over the bed and reach for Sammy, pulling him into my lap. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Good nap, mama,” he repeats.

“Are you ready for a snack?” I ask as I stand up, letting Sammy settle on my hip.

“Hung’y, mama,” Sammy happily nods as we make our way downstairs.

I set Sammy down in his pack n’ play and pour some Puffs into a bowl, letting his loud crunching and noisy toys fill the kitchen as I fix us something to eat. As I’m setting the plates down, I hear a knock on the front door.

“Ugh, _every time_ ,” I complain, taking a small piece of apple and placing it in my mouth. “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”

“‘Kay, mama,” Sammy says as he picks up another puff.

Another rapping comes from the door, this one louder than the last, _probably some salesperson,_ I murmur. When I open the door, all I see at first is a broad, tall body covered by a blue plaid shirt, and as I let my eyes travel up, I meet a pair of eyes that I never thought I’d see again.

“Sam.”

“Ella.”

My heart races at the sound of my name on his lips, but I can’t move; the last time I saw Sam, Dean was about to let an angel possess him. What if this wasn’t Sam? What if this was Ezekiel? I eye him suspiciously. Should I call Cas?

“It’s me, Ella,” Sam says as if he can read my mind.

“No.” I shake my head and attempt to close the door. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you stay away from my family and me.”

“Ella, baby, it’s me." Sam gently steps forward and stops the door. "We met Thanksgiving 2002,” he offers. “I saved you from a werewolf, you clung to me the whole night, and I started falling for you right then. I had to convince my dad to let me stay, I told him it was for school, but it’s ‘cause I wanted to stay close to you. The first time you said ‘I love you’ was Valentine’s Day; we went to _The Tavern,_ and you were concerned about the prices. The day you told me you were pregnant– it was one of the happiest days of my life, even though I was scared shitless. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you again at Joe’s. I wanted to tell you right then and there how much I missed you; how sorry I was–”

“You’re rambling,” I murmur, reaching out and pressing my palm to his cheek, and he leans into my touch. Sam wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly as if he’s afraid to let me go.

“What– what’re you doing here? How–?” I mumble into his chest.

“Cas,” Sam takes a deep breath. I let him hold on to me while I try to keep myself calm. “Told us you were in Lawrence; I can’t tell you how pissed Dean–” I pull away slightly, and Sam shakes his head. “Quick search gave me your address,” he gives me an embarrassed smile that quickly fades. Sam’s embrace around me loosens, and I step back to scan his face. The dark circles under his eyes hint at the fact that it’s probably been days since he last slept. “I guess I should have called first?” Sam lets out a laugh that seems to be hiding pained thoughts.

“It’s not that,” I shake my head. “I– I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t think–”

Sam takes my hand in his rubbing it gently, and gives me a small smile. His brow furrows, and his smile quickly fades as his eyes travel down toward our connected hands.

“You’re married,” Sam states, brushing his thumb over the ring on my finger. “Of course you are." He lets go and shakes his head, seemingly in disbelief. “I’ll just– I’ll go. I don’t–”

“Wait, Sam,” I stop him. “Come in, please,” I insist. Sam nods his head warily, and I step aside so that he can walk in. I can hardly form a coherent thought as he walks into my house. He doesn’t make it far in before stopping, reaching out to touch a photo hanging on the wall. Even without a clear view, I know it’s of Cordy, taken only a few weeks ago on the first day of school. The smile that forms on Sam’s face is instant, and I can see his eyes beginning to water.

“Corie, she’s– she’s beautiful, Ella,” he says, eyes never leaving the frame.

I join him in front of the photo, and I watch as he studies it intensely. "Let's talk," I whisper as I move away from the wall and towards the kitchen. My eyes immediately fall on Sammy when I walk back in, who’s keeping himself busy with one of his many toys, smiling at the random noises coming from him. I turn around when I can no longer feel Sam’s presence behind me, and I see him staring blankly at Sammy through the mesh material.

“You– you had a baby,” Sam murmurs, taking his eyes off the toddler and gives me a sad smile. “I’m happy for you, Ella,” Sam’s words are hollow. “I'm sure Corie’s a great big sister."

“She tries,” I laugh slightly, “maybe Dean could–”

“Dean’s dead.” Sam cuts me off, his bluntness taking me by surprise. “He sacrificed himself so that we could be together– _our family_ could be together,” Sam’s jaw clenches slightly, and his face reddens. “But I come back here, and you’re married, and have another kid–”

“Sam,” I move towards him. I know how it must look _—_ that shortly after we last saw each other, I found someone else; that I replaced him. “I need to tell you–”

“No, Ella, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Voice laced with anger, Sam stiffens before taking a few steps back. “It’s been three years,” He turns around and heads back towards the front of the house. "I couldn’t expect you to wait around forever, could I?”

“Sam–!” I try to get his attention before he leaves, but he ignores me. I grab Sammy and chase him down as best I can with a toddler in my arms.

“I just– I want to be in Corie’s life, Ella,” Sam says as he reaches for the door. “I want to know my daughter, and I want her to know me. I’m out of the life. Without Dean, I can’t do it; I’m not a hunter anymore. Talk it over with your husband; I’ll do whatever you want, Ella, please, just don’t keep Corie away from me.”

“Sam, wait, please–” He’s halfway across the lawn when I stop him, my free hand landing on his shoulder. Sam stills but doesn’t turn around. I walk around him so that I’m standing in front of him. Sam’s eyes are bloodshot, tears flowing freely from them as he stares at the ground. “Stay.”

“I can’t,” Sam looks up to meet my gaze. “I can’t stay and _not_ be with you, Ella. You and Corie– You’re a real family now,” his eyes briefly land on Sammy again, who’s tugging at the necklace Sam gave me. “I’m not going to stand in your way. You and your husband–”

“Stop, Sam,” I plead, reaching up to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “I’m so sorry about Dean.”

“We didn’t have any other choice,” Sam murmurs, leaning into my touch as I tuck back some of his fallen hair behind his ear. “Dean, he– he made me promise to come to find you, get our family back. Said that he wanted us to be together, made Cas tell me where you were. I-I didn’t think...” Sam shakes his head and his voice trembles. “I-I wanna stay nearby so that I can stay close to Corie.”

“Mama, look!” Sammy points to Jason’s truck as it pulls into the driveway and tries to squirm out of my hold. “Daddy!” By the time Sammy is down, Jason is already heading towards us. Sammy is wobbly on his feet as he makes for Jason, who lifts him into his arms, causing a giggle to leave Sammy.

“Hey, babe,” Jason places a light kiss on my lips and lets his free hand around settle on my waist. “Who’s this?”

“Jason, this is Sam,” I say cautiously. Jason’s brows raise in surprise as he seemingly puts it together. Sam doesn’t move, only narrowing his eyes on Jason. “Sam, this is Jason.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jason offers his hand to Sam, and I know he’s trying to play nice. Sam doesn’t move, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a nod. Jason closes his hand and brings it back to his side. “I’m gonna take him inside,” Jason gestures to Sammy, breaking the growing tension between the three of us. “I can hear this one’s stomach growling,” he jokes. “You hungry, buddy?”

Sammy nods his head excitedly, and Jason lets him down onto the grass. Sammy is tugging at his arm, guiding Jason back towards the house.

“It was nice meeting you, Sam,” Jason says after taking a few steps away from us. Sam doesn’t respond again, only giving another nod.

Jason disappears back inside the house, leaving Sam and me alone on the lawn. I don’t know how to tell him everything that I need to.

“He’s cute,” Sam says half-heartedly, and I lift my brow in confusion, “The kid. I guess your husband is too. How long have you been together?”

“Jason isn’t– we’re not married,” I finally get the chance to correct him. “He proposed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is he good to you?” Sam takes a step closer to me. “He treats you and Corie right? Because if he’s not–”

“He’s been good for us, _all_ of us. Stepped into a role when he could’ve run the other direction,” I laugh slightly.

I can see that Sam has more questions, but my front yard’s public nature makes it difficult. Realizing that Cordy will be home in a couple of hours, I suggest going somewhere more private, promising to answer all of his questions. Sam agrees, and I run back into the house to redress and tell Jason that Sam and I need to discuss everything alone. Jason hesitates, but he reluctantly agrees that it would be for the best. I leave him and Sammy with a kiss, promising to be back in a few hours.

"Dean said that you came to the hospital." Sam sits down across from me at the diner, nodding politely at the waitress as she drops off our two coffees.

"I had to," I murmur, bringing the ceramic cup to my lips and taking a sip. "I'm sorry that I didn't stay. I wanted to, but something about Ezekiel and what Dean wanted him to do, it didn't feel right."

"It's okay," Sam assures me and reaches across the table to take my hand in his. "Ezekiel, he– he wasn’t who he said he was, he lied to Dean from the start, didn’t even tell him his real name, _Gadreel_. When Dean became suspicious, Gadreel– he locked me away inside my mind, and used my body to kill innocent people,” Sam tears his gaze away from mine and brings his hand back into his lap. “It’s good that you left. You and Corie, you– you wouldn’t have been safe if you stayed.”

Sam spends the better part of the next hour filling me in on everything that happened since we’d last seen each other. I don’t know how to tell Sam about Sammy, and for a brief moment, I consider letting him think that Sammy isn’t his, but quickly decide against it. Sam's face lights up when I tell him, and tears fill his eyes as I pull out my phone to show him the trove of photos of Sammy and Cordy. If Sam was _truly_ out, then I had to give him the chance to be a part of our lives, didn’t I? Cordy and Sammy deserve the chance to know Sam, the Sam I fell in love with.

It’s late by the time I return, and I do everything I can to act as if everything is normal. Cordy, Sammy, and Jason are curled up on the couch, watching a movie, and I greet them quickly before heading upstairs. Cordy calls out for me to join them, causing Jason to turn around and take in my appearance. I tell her I’ll be back down after a shower, and I see Jason getting up out of the corner of my eye.

I don’t realize that Jason is behind me until I hear the door closing only moments after walking into my room.

"I think we should talk," He murmurs, closing the gap between us. I fiddle with the ring on my finger and move towards the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "About us, the kids; about Sam," I nod, and my eyes stay fixated on the ring on my finger. “Whatever happened today, just- just don’t lie, Ellie, please, no matter how difficult the truth is.”

“Okay,” I nod again, and Jason places a kiss on my temple.

“You told me that Sam disappeared,” Jason moves down so that our eyes can meet. “Did you know that he was going to show up here today?”

The topic of Sam was a difficult one for me to breach with Jason. He’s never pushed me for more information than what I am willing to give him. When we first started dating, Sammy was only a few months old. I had finally come to terms with the fact that Sam was most likely dead or worse. Radio silence from Dean seemingly confirmed my suspicions, and I allowed myself to move on, to fall in love again. My feelings for Sam never disappeared, they stayed deep inside me, and when I saw him again, they all came rushing to the surface.

"No," I answer honestly. "The last time I saw Sam, he was in a coma. His brother and I couldn’t agree on what to do. Dean wanted to use,” I hesitate, “ _extreme measures_ , I had just found out I was pregnant with Sammy, and I couldn’t–” I don’t know how to explain it to Jason; how I seemingly took Cordy and ran away. I try to find something that resembles the truth. “He was dying, I wanted him to get better, but I couldn’t watch him become an empty shell of himself. Dean had medical power of attorney, and I had no chance of winning any contestation. Legally, Sam’s not Cordy’s dad; there was nothing I could do. Cordy and I said goodbye, and we left. I thought he died since we didn’t hear from either of them again.”

Jason listens carefully and takes a deep breath before speaking again. Whatever it is, I can tell it's going to be difficult. “Did anything happen while you were with him?"

I’m caught off-guard by the question, and guilt begins to fill every inch of my body. I look away from Jason and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is mussed, and my lips are still swollen; it couldn’t be any more obvious what happened. Jason is studying me when I face him again, and tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to admit what Sam and I did less than two hours ago.

“Jason, please," I beg, my shame taking over. “I can’t.”

"Please, Ellie," he demands softly, and a choked sob leaves me. “Did you kiss him?” I nod my head and Jason tenses. I glance up and see a mixture of anger and sadness at my confession, which only makes me cry harder.

“Did you–” Jason struggles to get the words out, and I fear I know exactly what his next question will be. “Did you sleep with him?”

"I'm sorry!" I cry, and Jason moves away from me at my confession. He paces the floor in front of me, face growing redder by the second, his jaw clenches, and I see him ball his fists. “I didn’t– I wasn’t– It just happened.”

" _It just happened?_ " Jason stops in his tracks, questioning me in disbelief. "You don't _accidentally_ sleep with someone who isn't your fiancé, Ellie!"

“I- I know,” I sob, barely able to choke out the words. “It all hap-happened so fast," I try to explain myself. “One minute we were talking and the next Sam was kissing me and then…”

"I don't need the details, Ellie," Jason snaps. "Just tell me, why?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking. I needed closure; we've never been able to give each other a proper goodbye."

"And sleeping with him got you that?!" He asks in a hushed yell. If the kids weren't downstairs, we'd be in a screaming match right now. " _A proper goodbye?_ So does that mean Sam's leaving? That he’s going to give you and Cordy and Sammy up? Disappear from our lives forever?"

"I-I don't know," I say between sniffs.

Jason storms out of the room, leaving me alone with my guilt. Jason had been there for Sammy’s birth, holding my hand the entire time. He stepped into the role of step-father when he could’ve walked away. Jason is the only father Sammy has ever known; Cordy took longer to warm up to him, still holding out hope that Sam would be a part of our lives again one day. Jason and I discussed him adopting both Cordy and Sammy after we were married, but now that Sam is back, I’m questioning everything.

When Jason returns half an hour later, he’s calmer than before, but I can still see the anger written on his face. He didn’t deserve what Sam and I did to him, and I wouldn’t blame him for leaving me—us. I watch closely as he walks over to the bed and sits down next to me.

“Are you still in love with Sam?” Jason hesitantly asks and takes my hand in his, his thumb grazing over the ring. “Do you want to be with him?”

“He’s Cordy and Sammy’s dad; a part of me will always love him.”

“That’s not what I asked, Ellie,” Jason gently grabs my chin and turns my face towards him. “Are you _in love_ with Sam?” He asks more pointedly.

“I– I don’t know,” I murmur.

“Ellie,” he sighs, “I love you, and if you tell me this won’t ever happen again, I am ready to find a way for us to work through it. But you have to decide what you want, _who_ you want: Sam, or me.”

I let his words sink in, wondering if the situations were reversed if I would be able to do the same. I can’t tell him something like that will never happen again because I don’t know if I can ever trust myself to not fall back into Sam’s arms. Sam was all I ever wanted for ten years, but I had to put my feelings for him aside so that I could focus on Cordy and Sammy; I have to do what’s best for them.

“I’m going to stay at my house tonight.” Jason’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Think about what I’ve said.” He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Jason,” I reach for his hand, “I never meant to hurt you.”

He smiles sadly, then leaves. I hear him say goodbye to Cordy and Sammy. The silence that follows when the front door closes breaks my heart. A few minutes later, Cordy carries Sammy into my room, and they both crawl into my bed. She’s old enough to understand that something happened between Jason and me. I don’t know if I should tell her of Sam’s return and decide against it. I’m not ready to answer the questions that will inevitably follow. The three of us fall asleep together; Sammy sandwiched between Cordy and me.

When I wake up the next morning, I know what I want. I know _who_ I want. He was the last thing to cross my mind before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I woke up.

I reach for my phone and send him a message asking him to come over as soon as possible. He replies quickly, telling me he will be over shortly. I put the phone down and turn to wake Cordy and Sammy. She grumbles, but I give her a little nudge and ask her to wait downstairs. Cordy sends me a questioning look through her sleepy features, but she complies when I tell her it’s important.

Cordy’s still half-asleep on the couch when I make my way down, Sammy propped on my hip, also unable to keep his eyes open. My whole body is shaking with nerves as I impatiently wait for him to arrive.

Three light raps on the door have me on my feet in seconds, racing towards the future with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I swing the door open, letting him step into the house, and he wraps his arms around Sammy and me, holding onto us as tight as he can. I relax into his embrace and breathe in his familiar scent.

As I pull away, I let my eyes fall on his familiar features. I run my free hand through his hair, and a smile appears on his lips. He leans down to press a gentle yet eager kiss on my lips. His rough, calloused fingers tenderly brush against Sammy’s face, and tears fill his eyes as he takes in the little boy’s features. I hand Sammy over to him and notice how small the toddler looks wrapped in his arms. He closes his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but when he opens them again, I see the kaleidoscope of blues and greens that I had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Cordy,” I call into the living room, “come here, please.”

I can hear the padding of Cordy’s feet as she mumbles about it being too early to be up. When she turns the corner, Cordy’s eyes widen, and a broad smile spreads across her face. She runs towards us, ready to jump into his arms.

"Dad!"

**Author's Note:**

> love it? hate it? let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome!


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